Prisoner
by Resa Aureus
Summary: The Battle at Hogwarts just ended and Voldemort has been defeated, but his escaped followers still linger. Right after the fight, Hermione myseriously disappears. The Order goes on the hunt for her and once she's found, something's a little...different. Rated M for violence and language. The Sequel "Captive" is now posted.
1. Chapter 1

A/N. ALRIGHT. Here is my first fic on . Now, I don't do cotton candy fluff, so the first few chapters especially are going to be on the dark side. If you're not into reading about excruciating pain, I suggest you walk away now.

ENJOY!

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Chapter one: Survivor's Guilt

The rubble of a school once invincible was shattered around her feet, along with the bodies of the people who made Hogwarts so great. The Great Hall was a graveyard. Hermione Granger felt the weight of being a survivor fall on her so quickly, it stole the oxygen from her lungs. The battle was done. Voldemort was dead. Ever since her fourth year when the Dark Lord returned, she'd been dreaming of this moment, expecting dancing in the streets and the Weasleys twins setting off fireworks and parties that lasted weeks long just because everyone's so happy for it all to be over. Everyone was safe to return to their everyday lives.

So why did Hermione feel so miserable?

It might have been the fact that she was spattered with burns and one of her ribs was definitely cracked. It could be the wound of Dolohov's curse or the fact that the beautiful handiwork of Bellatrix Lestrange along her forearm kept reopening, the blood sliding down to her wrists and off her fingertips. It was none of these things, though.

The tortured wails of George Weasley rang through the room. A few meters away, he was knelt over the body of a man identical to him, save his extra ear, clutching the lifeless body of his twin to his chest and letting out the most heartwrenching, unintelligible cries of loss and torment. Hermione couldn't help but feel this was surreal. Fred Weasley was the lost alive person she ever had the privelege to know - he couldn't possibly be dead. It was inconceivable to her. He should be blowing something up or setting off wizbangs and poisoning younger kids with new products. Her eyes should be open and vibrant and wide and taking in everything around him and saying the words, "Well, Granger, the Devil himself is dead. This is proof - you only live once. What do you say we go and shag on Flitwick's desk, yeah?"

She would have laughed and said something witty about him having to "charm" her first and George would have been finishing his sentences and then they would be smacked by Molly and everything would have been well. But Fred was dead and George was broken and Hermione wanted to rip her heart from her chest to replace George's crushed one.

Lying not too far away was a sight equally as horrible. Tonks and Remus Lupin, looking as serene as they would sleeping in their bed at home, their son in the next room, held one another's limp hands in an eternal rest. The Weasleys were all circled around the twins and Harry was holding Ginny close, stroking her trembling head, and Remus and Tonks had only one another to comfort. Hermione found herself dropping to her knees beside her former professor and his wife, taking their loosely intertwined hands to hold tight betwen her own. The tears started falling as she squeezed her eyes shut to bring their cold, folded knuckled to her lips and pressing a kiss there for both of them.

She remembered how lively and clumsy and smiley Tonks was in her life, welcoming Hermione with open arms and changing hair when she became part of the Order. She remembered how determined the former Hufflepuff was in her work as an Auror and in capturing Remus's heart. Hermione choked at the thought of Teddy and how he'd never know his mother and that just killed Hermione. As the sobs came harder and louder, she bent down and curled herself around Tonks. Though young and wild, Tonks had possessed that maternal quality that came with being in the House of the Badger and more than anything, Hermione needed that right then. A warmth and steadiness that a Gryffindor could never have, a motherly caress that no one in the Great Hall could give her.

"Hermione..." a watery voice said tentatively from behind her, but she wasn't going to let go of Tonks until she woke the hell up and told her what a fool Hermione had been for believing even a second that Tonks would let any bloody Death Eater take her life.

Hermione wasn't going to let go until Tonks woke up and looked at her with a bewildered why-are-you-hugging-me-like-that stare and ask, "Wotcher, 'Mione?" Until those things happened, Hermione was staying right where she was.

The voice persisted, though. "Hermione... Ron needs you...I need you."

Finally, she tore her face away from Tonks's shoulder and looked up at the thoroughly exhausted Harry Potter. His hair was normally messy, but now it looked like he'd been struck by lightning. His glasses were cracked and his clothes were torn and not really even recognizable as clothes anymore - he kind of looked like a house-elf, actually.

"I'm not letting them go." Hermione teached out and brushed a lock of sandy, grey-streaked hair from Remus's closed eyes. "I can't, Harry...please, don't ask me to," she begged hoarsely, barely above a whisper. "I'd do anything for you...Actually, I _have_. I've been tortured for you, been blacklisted for you." Her voice was gaining strength with each quaking word. "I sacrificed my family for you, wiping myself from their minds! I've killed for you, and would have died for you too, dammit! I'd do anything you bloody ask me, but please, for the love of God, Harry, don't ask me to do this!" The sobs wracked her body and she was finding it harder and harder to breathe.

There was a long pause and she saw out of the corner of her eye, Harry crouching down beside her to be as close to Remus and Tonks and she was. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Hermione...I'm sorry. But you'll have to let go of them, eventually," he added gently. "Why don't you...try saying goodbye? That way they'll understand why you have to leave them for a little bit."

Hermione wanted to scoff, but couldn't. It'd been what she told Harry when he wouldn't let go of a picture of Sirius for days after his falling through the Veil. Harry had told her that he wasn't a child, but did it anyway. So Hermione figured she should follow her own advice.

"Tonks...Wotcher, I guess." Hermione chuckled a little to herself. "Cheers, and all that. You always did know how to turn a phrase. I'll take good care of Teddy for you, yeah? Harry and I both. I'll make sure he gets all the love that you would have given him and tell him stories about how you'd fall over your own feet or scream at Remus until he admitted he loved you." Then she turned to her former teacher. "Professor Lupin...You did always hate it when I called you that after you stopped teaching. You were so much more than a professor, though. You were a friend and a father figure. You defeated demons within and outside of yourself. You were an inspiration and I'm glad you finally stopped letting your lycanthropy define yourself and give into Tonks. I'll make sure to let Teddy know that his father was a Marauder and a hero." She graced each their cheeks with a soft kiss and forced herself to pull away to stand.

And when she stood, she did not follow Harry to the Weasley clan. She ran like hell out of the Great Hall, through the hills of stone that used to be the entrance of Hogwarts, and blindly out into the night.

...~oOo~...

"Ron...we've got a problem," Harry said nervously.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron said, exasperated. His eyes were puffy and wet and he looked like he wanted to strangle his best friend. "You just killed Voldemort, for Merlin's sake! Can you please _not _have a problem for ten bleeding minutes? If it's another fucking prophecy, I will kill -"

"It's Hermione," Harry sliced into his distraught friend's rant. He knew it wasn't fair to him - God, how he knew - but he knew Ron would be more angry if he didn't inform him that the love of his life just booked it out of the castle as if she was being chased by something.

That sobered Ron up faster than a pail of water. "What's happened? She's alive, ain't she?" The panicked was evident as his words came faster and eyes got bigger. "Jesus Christ, I saw her walking only seconds ago, I swear, where is she, what happened -"

"She's alive Ron, but she just…" Harry motioned uselessly with his hands and shrugged. "Left."

"Left?"

"Yeah. Ran like a bat out of hell."

"Left…to where?"

"Dunno. Out of the Great Hall…maybe out of the castle."

Then Ron looked angry as he started marching past the Chosen One, growling over his shoulder, "Blymey, Harry, there's still Death Eaters out there, why the hell didn't you go after her?" He gesticulated urgently for Harry to come along as they both sprinted out the same way Hermione had.

They ran side-by-side through the rubble of their school, out the front, and when they hit cold night air, they started calling out her name.

"'Mione!" Ron was shouting, his voice rough from crying. "Bloody hell, Hermione, where'd ya go?"

"Hermione!" Harry echoed his friend's calls. "Hermione! Where've you…"

Ron heard his friend's voice trail off and his halted, having a sinking feeling in his gut. "Harry?"

"Ron…c'mere…" Harry's voice was devoid of all emotion and Ron hesitated only a moment before approaching his friend's back and following Harry's gaze, which seemed to be fixed on his shoes.

When Ron got to his side, he saw that Harry wasn't staring at his shoelaces at all. No. He was staring down at a long, thin elegant piece of wood they were both all too familiar with, lying lonely in the grass.

It was Hermione's wand.

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A/N. PLEASE RATE AND REVIEW!

*sniffle* every time I think of Lupin & Tonks and Fred, I cry, is that pathetic or what?A


	2. Chapter 2

A/N. This is where it's gonna be getting a little painful...for Hermione, that is. It gets better, though, I promise!

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Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Three Days

Hermione quickly learned that Bellatrix had a favorite game. It was called "Burn the Mudblood." It went something like this: Bellatrix chained Hermione up to her place on the wall in the basement of the abandoned Malfoy Manor, cast an Incendio on her, let the fire spread for a few seconds before promptly healing Hermione and repeating the process. A close second was "Mudblood Scrabble" where she carved new, filthier, different words into the skin of her back, all close together until they mended into one another and her back was less flesh and more open wounds. But of course Bellatrix, the doll she was, would cast a blood replenishing charm. What was the fun to torture someone if they had no more blood to bleed, passed out, or died?

Bellatrix wanted Hermione to be around for a while.

Eventually, Bellatrix was running out of room on her Scrabble board, a.k.a. Hermione's back, so she flipped her over and wrote the words in her belly, "Property of Lord Voldemort" and put extra effort into carving a wonky-looking imitation of the Dark Mark below it.

Finally, bleeding and barely-conscious, Hermione found herself alone in her prison, the cackles of Bellatrix disappearing up the stares of the basement. She hadn't unlocked Hermione's shackles this time, so connected to the wall the brightest of the age would have to remain. On the first day of her incarceration as a "prisoner of war", Hermione had repeated her multiplication tables in her head to keep sane during Crucio after Crucio. The second day, she said the tables to keep herself from passing out while being carved like a turkey. Whatever day she was on now - she'd lost count after two - she said her multiplication tables simply because…nothing else occupied her mind. Except pain. Sometimes it was hard for her to remember her parents names or even the name of the woman currently holding her prisoner.

Under normal circumstances, Hermione would be worried about this. But you could hardly worry about things you didn't remember.

Two times twelve is twenty four…two times thirteen is twenty six…two times fourteen is twenty-eight…

Hermione didn't know when she'd began saying the tables aloud, but she rather liked the way her soft, raspy voice bounced off the tiny walls of her cell. It almost made it feel like there was someone else there. When she'd heard the echoes, she forced her numbers to be a little louder and found herself giggling at the sound of her own voice filling the chambers. She continued her multiplication aloud.

Bellatrix came down for one last Crucio before bed and took her down from her shackles, forcing a piece of stale bread into her mouth and a few mouthfuls of water. Bellatrix let out a loud laugh before gripping Hermione's face between her hand, clutching enough to bruise her jaw and planted a rough kiss onto the mudblood's mouth before cackling again and skipping out with the frivolity of a demented, evil school girl.

The moment the door shut to the basement, Hermione resumed her multiplication tables out loud. The wonderful thing about numbers was that they never ended, but Hermione, without even knowing, was saying her tables with the hope to get to an end and became unreasonably frustrated when they wouldn't. They just kept going and going and going…

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Nine Days

"I brought you a present today, Mudblood!" her captor screeched excitedly from the top of the stairs.

Mudblood…was that her name? That's what the woman with the wild black hair had been calling her…Looking down, she reasoned that it must be her name - it was written in her arm, of course.

"I think you will enjoy this one, my dear," the woman with the scary laugh and black hair announced. The mudblood's eyes were shut, but she heard the metal of her cage rattle and the squeal of the hinges protesting. "I'm sure you know Greyback, yes? No? Maybe not…but that's alright, dear. You'll know him well enough after the next few hours!" With another high-pitched laugh, she said, "Have fun, my wolfy friend, but remember: No biting!"

The mudblood's eyes were still shut, but she heard the eager growl only inches away from her face. His hot breath fanned her face and it smelled an awful lot like raw meat and blood.

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Twenty Days

Fifty-seven times eighty is four-thousand five-hundred sixty…fifty-seven times eighty-one is four-thousand six-hundred seventeen… fifty-seven times eighty-two is four-thousand six-hundred seventy-four…

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Twenty-Five Days

"Ron…?"

"What?"

"…It's been a month."

"Yeah, Harry. I know that."

"…The Auror Department is…well…they're considering…"

Pause. "Spit it out, Harry."

"Well, they're considering de-prioritizing her case."

Pause. This time, the pause did not end. It dragged on like a bad, lingering smell that hung in the air. The kind of silence that only meant…

A crash. It'd happened so fast, Harry hadn't even see it happen, but a perfectly nice vase was no in a billion pieces on the carpet of Grimauld's living room. There was no wand in Ron's hand, so Harry assumed he'd gone about it the muggle way. A good old throw of breakable objects did wonders for your mood, it really did.

But breaking a thousand and one of those tacky Black family vases would have done nothing to relieve Ron of his…despair.

Harry didn't even flinch at the smash.

"Why are you so fucking calm, Harry? Did you even care for her at all? All that rubbish about her being like a sister to you, was that all it was to you?" Ron exploded, tears threatening. "She trusted you and now you're acting like you aren't worried, don't miss her, don't care about her -"

"Of course I miss her!" Harry snapped. "Are you fucking daft? I love her! Not in the same way as you, but just as much and I would do anything for her! But you know as well as I do that she'd want me to stay level-headed because she'd know you'd go barmy! She'd want us to stay strong instead of falling apart! She's the brightest witch of our age - she's probably going to save herself before any of us get a chance to anyway. But that doesn't mean that I'm giving up. Quite the opposite. I'm calling an Order meeting tonight. The Aurors may be backing off, but we're doubling our efforts. We'll find her, Ron."

Ron said nothing.

"Oh, chin up, Weasley," Harry said, trying to brighten the mood. "You have to prepare for when she gets back. Because the second she does, you'll have to marry her, you know that, yeah?"

Without a word, Ron dug into his pocket, and brought of a little black velvet box and popped it open to reveal a simple silvery ring with a tiny pearl on the top.

Harry was godsmacked. "When the hell did you get that?"

"Right before we went hunting for Horcruxes," he mumbled miserably.

"But…why?"

A dry smirk adorned Ron's face, but it never reached his eyes. "I always figured that if we had minutes to live, I'd propose to her. At least that way I'd die know she was mine and I was hers."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. It was…the most poetic, beautiful thing he'd ever heard his friend say. The urge to cry washed over him, but he fought it by clearing his throat. "Well, hold on to that, mate. Once we get her back, you'll propose, have a very short engagement, and before you know it, you'll be living in a house in the country with enough ginger kids running around to make your own Quidditch team. I promise it."

And then, a very small, but very real smile lit up Ron's face, the tiniest of bits.

…~oOo~…

The members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived only minutes apart. Even with the war over, their paranoia was still pretty prominent and when the Chosen One called a meeting at a specific time, they made sure to be there as prompt, even early, as possible. Harry may not be the Chosen One anymore, but that didn't change all the things he'd did. Ending a war, one on one with the Dark Lord and winning, wasn't something that could ever be forgotten.

Everyone that had been available was in attendance. Headmistress McGonagall sat tall and proud along with Professors Sprout and Snape. Everyone had been shocked when Snape had made his recovery. He'd made it very clear that they were all fools for not assuming he'd been taking doses of anti-venom ever since he started hanging around Nagini. Snape, sneer always apparent, had sliced verbally into ever visitor he had at St. Mungo's who dared utter the words, "I thought you were dead." Now he was healthy and his tongue was sharper than ever, but Harry couldn't help but see the visible amount of darkness and weight that was now absent from Snape's being now that Voldemort was officially dead and gone.

A very similar weight had been lifted from everyone's shoulders, but it was most obvious on Snape. The man was a spy for two whole wars, losing the woman he loved in the first and being forced to kill his mentor in the second, and came within inches of losing his own life but not before saving Harry's, a boy he very much hated, on multiple occasions. McGonagall called him into her office last week and said that he should be satisfied with his loyalty to Hogwarts, the Order, and the wizarding world and have an early retirement. He'd told her that he'd sooner shove his hand down his own throat and rip his entrails out from his stomach manually and then eat them than listen to her stupid advice. She promptly shut up and dismissed him so she could gag into a garbage pail at the vivid image he'd painted for her.

Standing against the walls were George Weasley who'd become terrible gaunt over the last month with circles under his eyes, and his eldest brother Bill. Bill wasn't looking so good himself, all dark shadows under his eyes and perfect cheekbones. Two weeks before, Fleur had demanded a separation and he was currently bunking at the burrow, sharing a room with George because the remaining twin couldn't bare going back to his and Fred's flat above their shop or their childhood bedroom.

Ginny and Molly weren't too far away, each looking sad and withdrawn. Ginny was staring at Harry, as she always did. After the war was over, she'd been expecting him to - oh, I don't know - have his bollocks drop and finally reveal his love for her. But he hadn't. Everyone was telling Ginny that he was giving her space because of her brother's death and he was also mad busy with the search for Hermione. Ginny considered that maybe she was being selfish, but that didn't stop her from glaring.

Molly's family was absolutely falling apart. One of her sons was dead, one lost his twin and would never be the same again, one was in the middle of a separation that was quickly becoming a divorce, the other was destroyed because the love of his life was missing, one had gone to Romania to sulk and dive into his work to try and forget, one was acting like none of it ever happened, and her only daughter was relentlessly pining for the wizarding world's savior and was getting selfish and sour over it. The only person who hadn't absolutely lost their head was her husband who was thankfully around day and night to comfort her and love her.

Arthur Weasley was having a pleasant, but half-hearted conversation with the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebot. And Ron was skulking in the shadow of a dark corner, Neville was shyly tucked in a chair, and Luna was looking dreamily into the distance, leaning against a wall.

And that pretty much wrapped up their motley crew. Harry immediately became dejected at how sparse it'd become. The room felt horribly…empty. And their was no Hermione at his elbow to nudge him forward or whisper urgently for him to say something.

Eventually, Harry worked himself up enough to say, "Hello, everybody."

There was a morose chorus of greetings that wasn't exactly comforting.

"Did you get any news on Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked quickly, sounding hopeful.

Harry's heart dropped. She still had hope and it was truly inspiring, but also…sad. She was the only one left with any flicker of belief that things would truly return to normal. "Um…kind of. The opposite actually. The Auror Department is de-prioritizing her case."

The room immediately burst into angry, incredulous responses. At least they were still passionate, Harry thought. He was really worried that they were losing their flame, but maybe…maybe they had some fight in them yet. This was good. Great, actually.

"Unfortunately, Harry is correct," Shacklebot said sadly. "There are laws and department policies that even I cannot override."

"Well, that's bloody rubbish," George growled to himself, getting a firm look from his mother. "It's true! If Tonks and Moody were alive, you can damn well bet that Hermione's case would still be number one."

A gentle, lilting voice said from behind all of them, "But, George…they aren't alive." Every turned to look at Luna. Her big eyes were rooted with sadness. She gave a hopeless shrug. "They're dead. As are Lavender and Professor Lupin and Fred."

And there it was. The cold, hard truth that no one had been wanting to admit to themselves. It was almost…refreshing, in a very pathetic way. Luna Lovegood, infamous for being a dreamy, loony sort was setting them all straight in that kind, gentle way of hers. Her wisdom went far beyond being a Ravenclaw, Harry realized. She understood things and analyzed things better than most the people in the room.

But George wasn't ready to come to that realization.

"Fuck you!" he shouted and stomped out of the room and they all were dead silent and listened to the tell-tale pop of Apparition.

Luna's eyes were filled with tears that spilt over her pale cheeks, but she remained absolutely composed. "I only told the truth," she said simply.

Molly Weasley reached out to pat the girl's hand. "Of course you did, dear. You did nothing wrong. He'll feel bad about it the moment he gets home, love."

"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. I suppose I was being insensitive," Luna replied. "If you'll all excuse me." She walked into the direction of the bathroom.

An awkward silent ensued.

"Get on with it, mate!" Ron hissed from his corner.

With a sigh Harry said, "Anyway. Hermione's case file gets put on the back-burner now, but that doesn't mean that we can't continue and enhance our search for her. So let's go over what we know so far."

"Hermione went missing the day of the battle," Ginny said, which really wasn't useful, but at least someone was participating.

"Good, go on," Harry prompted.

Happy to at least have a miniscule bit of his attention, Ginny went on, "And none of the alive Death Eaters had been arrested yet. The only Death Eaters present at the battle and that aren't currently in custody are Nott, the Malfoys, Greyback, both Lestranges, and Goyle. The Malfoys we all know are in hiding ever since their Manor's been burnt to the ground and they've been excused of charges for giving up the name and crime of every Death Eater they knew. Goyle is believed to be dead, but his remains haven't been found. Bellatrix we thought was dead…but her body mysteriously vanished. My bet would be on her. She's tortured Hermione before and I wouldn't doubt she'd do it again."

Harry wanted to agree, but said, "That's true, but it could very well have been Greyback or Nott or maybe it wasn't a Death Eater at all. The only evidence we have is her wand. The Ministry said that the last spell to be fired was an Expelliarmus. Other than that, we have absolutely nothing to go on."

Bill Weasley's deep, smooth voice cut in. "We'll have to make a decision as to whom to look for first, and soon. If all our instincts agree it's either Bellatrix or Greyback, we should start there. We could split into two groups, one for the werewolf and the other for the bitch, and move from there." A dangerous curl to his mouth rippled the deep scars down the one side of his face. "I call captain of the group hunting Greyback, of course."

Shacklbot was nodding, "It's a great idea, Bill. So far we've been researching and it's got us nowhere. Unfortunately, our best researcher is the one we're looking for. We need to jump into action. It's the best way we work. William, you'll take charge of the Greyback group. With you will be Snape, both your brothers, Luna, and Neville. Heading the hunt for Bellatrix will be McGonagall, accompanied by Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Harry, Neville and Professor Sprout."

A meek cough came from one corner and everyone turned to the voice. "Um…Minister?"

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Would you mind if I…was put on the team looking for Bellatrix?"

A long silence filled the room. Everyone knew the reason he was put on the group for Greyback. Bellatrix had tortured his parents to insanity, after all.

"Are you sure you can handle it, son?" Shacklebot asked gravely.

Without hesitation, Neville nodded. Even though he was currently in a corner alone, he had gained some real confidence over the course of the wall. Harry suspected his hiding had something to do with the fact that in the midst of the battle, he'd confessed his love for Luna and she had simply blinked, thanked him, and kissed him on the cheek. Now that it was all over, he had understood that she had very politely turned him down without having even noticed at the time.

"Then Sprout, you'll be going after Greyback. Longbottom is on the Lestrange search," Kingsley finished, giving a firm nod which everyone returned. "I'll be doing me best to get whatever information I can from the convicted Death Eaters and the other departments. Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads. Except Snape, who never did anything as "frivolous" as shake his head. He just stared and that was enough.

"I do, actually. Which bastard am I going after?"

The gasps rang throughout the room as they all recognized the voice and they all spun to see him enter the room. With a cocky smirk, the man walked in and Harry couldn't help but sneer.

Draco Malfoy.

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A/N. I have this unnatural love for cliffhangers, don't you? They're fantastic (:

Rate and Review please!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N. Confession Time: I have an unhealthy love for Draco Malfoy, so the moment I found the opportunity to slip him in, I took is and ran. He will be making plenty of appearances and I am definitely looking forward to it.

Okay, here it is, my disclaimer. I do not own Harry Potter, but for fuck's sake, I wish I did. J.K. Rowling is one lucky, talented human being who I respect and would never profit off of. She is the Harry Potter God, let us all bow down and kiss her feet.

Enjoy!

…~oOo~…

"How did you get in here?" Harry demanded, feeling his face burn red. Hands curled into fists at his side, he was trying to quell the temptation to whip out his wand and hex him, calling it self-defense in front of the Wizengamot for intrusion.

"I gave the password of course," Draco answered, as if it should have been obvious. He rolled his eyes.

"But…how do you know the password?"

"I was invited."

"By _who_?"

"By me." Everyone turned to Shackelbot in disbelief. "I'm inducting him into the Order."

Harry's head was spinning like one of Fred and George's charmed tops. It wouldn't stop and it only got faster and faster until it exploded into colorful confetti. "But…why, Minister? He's registered as an ex-Death Eater. I know his family was pardoned, but…it's Malfoy!"

"Indeed, I am, Potter," Draco drawled, strolling into the room as casually as he would if it would be his own house. "So, am I going after Greyback or my dear Aunt Bella, then?"

"We'll make it two even groups of seven by putting you on Team Greyback," Shacklebot told him while Harry dropped into a chair, still godsmacked. "I wouldn't want you to be looking for your aunt, anyway. You're supposed to be hiding, after all, and you're the only one she'd be able to put a blood trace on."

Malfoy gave an understanding nod and said, "Sounds good."

"I just don't bloody get it," Ron snapped. "He _hates_ Hermione, why should we believe he'd want to help _find_ her?"

"Hermione and I may not have the best history," Draco said with a sneer at Ron, "but that doesn't mean I want her kidnapped and being tortured, which is obviously what is happening if she's been taken by a Death Eater, if she isn't already dead. And last I checked you aren't all that familiar with Death Eater safe houses and territory, now are you? _I am_. Which is why I'm an asset. Now, if you're quite done with spouting your I-hate-Malfoy-let's-lynch-him shite, Hermione could be on the wrong end of an Avada Kedavra _as we speak_."

It got quiet once more and Harry eventually broke the tenseness of the air and said, "It kills me to say this, but Malfoy is right. Malfoy, even though you're on the Greyback team would you mind writing out a list of addresses your aunt might be at for the other group?"

Draco gave a nod and now that Luna had returned from the bathroom, she was looking for a piece of parchment and quill for him.

"I know it's almost nine o' clock," Shacklebot announced to the room, "but if the heads of each team would like, you could begin the hunt tonight."

McGonagall stood up, shoulders back and chin up as always, and declared, "I won't be resting until Miss Granger is home, safe."

Bill Weasley nodded in agreement. "It's getting close to the full moon, so my sense of smell is especially acute. My link to Greyback's pack is stronger this time of month, too, so when we find them, we find him…and hopefully Hermione as well."

"Be careful," Molly said warily. "You'll be dealing with a pack of werewolves struggling with the effects of the full moon tomorrow night. They'll be agitated and stronger and more dangerous than they could ever be in human form."

The demi-werewolf gave his mother a nod, raking his hand back through his long red hair. "I know, Mum. I'll be careful. If anything happens to me, Snape will be around to kick some arse, won't ya, Professor?"

Snape did not justify that with an answer.

"If it's alright with you all," Luna said softly, but loud enough to get almost everyone's attention, "I'd very much like to apologize to George. Perhaps I should also go and inform him that he'll be looking for Greyback?"

"That sounds perfect, Luna," Bill said with a smirk at the strange but powerful witch. "Tell him to meet here at the hour of ten. Everyone else on my team should go fetch whatever supplies they believe they may need and group here again at ten. It's going to be a long night, so be ready for that."

Harry jumped up from his seat, needing to be moving. "I'll put on some coffee for when you all return."

McGonagall looked to each face of her own team. "You all do the same. Be quick about it. At ten fifteen, we're leaving with or without you."

"You are all officially dismissed," Shacklebot intoned and a lot of people Disapparated, while a few hung back to ask a few questions amongst themselves.

Luna's quiet voice could be heard talking to Molly. "If it's quite alright with you, I'd like to depart at the same time as you and your husband. George was quite angry with me, you see, and if you two are there he may be more comfortable.

Molly could be seen drawing the blonde girl into an airtight hug, crushing her lovingly to her chest and stroking her hair.

Ron walked over to Harry. "I have a good feeling about this, mate, I really do. We're on the right track. I can feel it." For the first time in a month, Ron looked eager.

"But Malfoy's right," Harry said dismally. "We could have been here, planning her rescue mission, and she could be dead on the floor _right now_."

"If she were dead," Ron said with confidence, "I could tell. I just would. When you…I mean to say when, you know, you…"

"Love someone?" Harry clarified with a raised eyebrow and an amused chuckle at Ron's sudden sputtering.

"Yeah, that. When you…love someone…I think you can just tell if something like that happens. George said he could feel Fred dying. He said it was the most horrible sensation in the world and he automatically knew that his twin was dead or dying. I think it's the same with…" He gave a little cough. "Soul mates."

Now Harry had to laugh. "You go from not being about to even say the word 'love' to saying she's your soul mate? Why, Ron, in the last few hours, I have seen you more poetic than you've been in the last seven years." He gave his blushing friend and firm pat on the shoulder. "If she's alive like you say, you better go polish that ring. It's been in your pocket for months, the thing must be dusty."

Ron shuffled out and eventually so did everyone else. Harry proceeded to the kitchen once he thought everyone was gone, but once he stepped into his kitchen he found one last guest leaning against the counter lazily.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, nose scrunched up in annoyance as he retrieved the coffee pot and kettle. Best put on both tea and coffee, Harry thought.

"I want to call a truce."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry asked, "Why's that?"

"Because, despite whatever I may have said in the past about you and your muggle-born friend, I don't want past rivalries getting in the way of finding her. I want her safe and sound just as much as you do."

Harry scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

"Okay, I'm going to level with you…." In a flash, Draco took Harry by the collar of his shirt and held him against the cabinets so that they were eye-to-eye. Harry's feet dangled three inches off the ground. "See? Now we're level. Now, listen here, Potter. You may have killed the Dark Lord, you may be the Boy Who Lived Twice, and you might have had your ass saved by my mother after Voldemort believed you were dead. But guess what? For some stupid reason, my mother still feels she owes you, or something. So I am here not only because I feel bad for bullying Granger, but also because if I don't somehow help find her, my mother will skin me alive and make me into a new handbag and matching shoes. Understand?"

Harry grimaced. He hated being suspended against the cabinets, he hated what his arch nemesis was saying, and most of all he hated _Draco_. He wanted to put his wand to Malfoy's throat, but he'd been an idiot and put it down next to the stove when he was getting the tea pot. He couldn't reach it. Malfoy was on control and Harry wanted to strangle him for it.

"Now. Do we have a truce or don't we? If we don't, I'll transfigure you into a badger until the rest of the Order returns," Draco threatened.

"So you're blackmailing me into a truce? That doesn't sound very traditional," Harry growled.

"No. I'm just relaying to you the consequences of making me an enemy again. So, what's it going to be, Potter? Do we have an understanding?"

It'd never been so difficult to nod his head in his life, but Harry managed it. He needed Malfoy to be involved in the search for Hermione. He had information no one else, except maybe Snape, knew.

Draco lowered Harry to the ground and put out his hand. Begrudgingly, Harry reached out and shook his new ally's hand.

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Twenty-Five and a Half Days

Bill Weasley and his search and rescue team were coming up on the current territory of Fenrir Greyback's pack. He could smell their track and something tingled in his chest that meant they were close. His link of Greyback was still strong, and until this moment he hated that connection to his Alpha, but at least now it came in handy for the first and probably last time.

It was now mid-afternoon and the sun was hot. They were on the side of a mountain, crawling through bushes, but Bill had a feeling that if he could feel the pack, the pack could probably feel him as well.

"I need all of you to stay where you are. The wind is in the opposite direction of their camp, so you should be safe," Bill whispered to his team. They were all covered in mud and had twigs in their hair. "Except George, Snape, and Malfoy. I want you both to go higher on the mountain and find somewhere that you can get a bird's eye view of the camp. You'll be out snipers, just in case. I'd really hate to be scratched up more than I am, mates," he said, trying to light humor. No one laughed, no one even smirked. Bill cleared his throat and continued, "The rest of you, I want to stay put. Watch the sky for red sparks. If you see the sparks, run like hell. Got it?"

They all nodded an affirmative.

Bill continued his crawl before gaining enough distance from his hiding team to stand and walk towards the pack in what he hoped looked casual. Once he was among the closed tents, he called out, "Hullo! Anyone home?"

In an instant, all the werewolves, still human until that evening of the full moon, were out of their tents and snarling. Bill held up his hands, feigning innocence. He remembered Lupin telling him about his time as a spy in Greyback's pack. Granted, Bill only really needed to draw information out of them for a few moments, but he knew that Lupin's spy advice would come in handy.

"What are you doing here?" one of the werewolves said. His rumbling voice sounded like a constant growl.

"I've come to talk to Greyback about being forgiven and welcomed into the pack," Bill said, his hands still raised.

"He's not here," the same man hissed. "He wouldn't want you in the pack, anyway. You don't even go through the Change, demi-wolf."

"I don't believe you," Bill said, ignoring his second comment. "He has to be here, after all. Tonight's the full moon. He needs his pack."

"He's been off with a female lately, probably spending the night at her place."

For some odd reason, that started the rest of the dozen wolves' laughter. They're laughs were loud or wheezy or hyena-like.

Bill raised an eyebrow and smirked, even though his stomach was turning unpleasantly. "Greyback got himself a mate?"

Another man chimed in, "Two, actually."

That didn't make sense. "Wolves mate for life, though."

"Good thing we aren't wolves then, yeah?" the same guy said with a scowl. "We're werewolves, mate. We can't screw whoever we want."

More laughter among the pack.

"You can stick around until Greyback get's back," one especially bulky guy commanded. "He'll want to see you."

Bill answered, "I need to see him before tonight. I have other information concerning the Aurors looking for him. It's to do with the full moon and it's urgent." Internally, he patted himself on the back for pulling such random lies out his arse.

"Well, I'm in charge when Greyback's away," the same bulky man said ominously, "and if I say to stay, then you'll stay."

"Actually, I won't," Bill said, getting snarky. "You're not my Alpha. I don't have to listen to you. Now, if you don't tell me where Greyback is so I can relay the information to him before the full moon, and if he gets captured because you didn't tell me, you can only imagine how upset he'll be to find out his second-in-command was the reason for his life in Azkaban."

The big second-in-command seemed to think about this, and Bill figured it was a flip of the coin. Fifty percent chance the guy would tear him to shred, fifty percent chance he caves. Bill swallowed quietly, waiting. He took deep breaths so no one could smell his fear. He kept his heart at a steady pace. No one could tell that he was playing them.

"Fine," the second-in-command said reluctantly. "If this is all a lie, you still couldn't kill him even if you tried. Greyback is five times more powerful than you and he can take care of himself. He's been at Malfoy Manor."

Bill's eyebrows pulled together. "But…Malfoy Manor was burned to the ground."

The man grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, to the ground. But not burned to _under _the ground."

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Twenty-Five and a Half Days

…is four-million seventeen-thousand seven-hundred-eighty-two…No, she thought, four-million seventeen-thousand seven-hundred-eighty-_six…_no, that isn't right…She better start over…

One times one is one…one times two is two…one times three is three…

As the numbers passed through her head, she barely noticed the Crucio that was jolting her body or the hot breath on her neck and the naked body pressed to her carved-up back. She noticed none of it. Her eyes were closed and she listened only to the cackle of the woman, the grunts of the wolf-man, and the numbers.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N. Here's a shout-out to the first reviewer of the story! sesshomaru-sama's lover, thank you so much! hopefully you will get the ball rolling for reviews (:

Enjoy!

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The land of Malfoy Manor was littered with stone and wood and broken furniture as they walked up the pavement towards the entrance gate. The house hadn't only been up in flames, but it had been bombed. All that left was the debris and bones of a once-powerful home.

"I don't believe what he said about the basement being intact," Draco said as the team of Greyback hunters approached property. "When the Aurors looked, they said it collapsed. It makes sense. The entire house exploded."

Bill had been thinking the same thing, actually. "It's the only lead we have."

Snape's lecturing voice emerged as he asked, "Malfoy, what was the report of who planted the explosives?" Obviously he already knew the answer.

"Aurors said probably escaped Death Eaters," Draco answered. "Because my family cooperated with the Ministry."

"Precisely. So if it is, indeed, Greyback who took part in the bombing, don't you think he would be able to control whether or not the basement was spared?"

The though floated through the group's minds.

"I guess," Ron mumbled to himself. "But Greyback's not smart enough to control an explosion like that, with or without magic."

Snape sneered. "Use your head, boy. Greyback is a werewolf, which means he runs in a pack. His power runs parallel with how many people follows him. At the same time, his worth is calculated by who he answers to. His former line of command was Voldemort, then the Death Eaters, him, and then his pack. So here is the equation. If Greyback lacks the intelligence to control an explosion of this caliber, and his pack has to be even less intelligent than him, than who is responsible for the Manor's bombing?"

Ron's wheels were turning as they stopped in front of the marred gate of what used to be Malfoy Manor. "You're saying he had a Death Eater accomplice?"

"Don't be daft. I'm saying _he_ was an accomplice to a Death Eater." Snape glared, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Did hanging on Miss Granger's every word teach you _anything_?"

Bill Weasley let Snape and Ron bicker while he shouldered open the twisted gate with Draco. It eventually sprung open with a horrific squeak and they walked onto the massive property. They kicked their way across the "front lawn" towards where the house used to be.

And then Bill saw the hand.

It was sticking out from under a turned over couch.

"No one move," Bill said, the curse breaker in him coming out. You never, ever, ran for something lying in the middle of rubble. You had to approach with caution.

"Oh my God, that's Hermione!" Ron screamed, starting a sprint that Bill quickly intercepted, holding him back with all his might.

Everyone in the group just stared at the exposed arm. It was skinny, pale, and dirty and they were all obviously trying really hard to not just run for the hand and check the pulse. But they all remained still as Bill said.

"How do you know?" Bill asked. Ron just kept struggling against his brother.

"Let me go, you twat! It's Hermione!" Ron screeched.

"Ronald! It could be a trick! Just tell me how you know it's her!" Bill growled.

"Her forearm said 'mud blood'! It's her, goddammit!" Ron yelled.

With a look at the arm, Bill saw he was right and let Ron go. He gave a nod to Snape who also rushed over in a swirl of black robes to the arm.

Ron threw over the couch and revealed that it was, in fact, Hermione. Though, it didn't look like her at all as he dropped down beside her. She was fifty pounds too light, her nails were caked with dirt and blood, her wrists were ringed with raw flesh like she'd been fighting against manacles, she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties and she was painted head to toe with black and blue bruises. There were thick nail marks along her chin and her eyebrows were singed. Her trademark bushy, curly hair, was cut to her ears, falling in curly and blood-matted, uneven chunks. She lay limp and motionless, eyes shut, and chest still.

Ron saw the words on her stomach, declaring her to be property of the Dark Lord and he had to force himself not to vomit.

"Oh my God, she's dead," Ron whispered. And then he let out a wail and leaned down to bury his face into her neck and bawl, caressing her face as gently as possible.

Snape was sitting on the other side of Hermione and very carefully lifted the girl's hand. Snape would never admit it, but inside he felt his own hair give a pang of sadness. The most annoying know-it-all he'd ever known, always flailing her arm in class, practically jumping from her seat at the chance to give in answer…was dead. He closed his eyes and did his routine. Hold the wrist, press two fingers to the pulse…

Wait. What? A pulse?

Nonplussed, Snape pressed his fingers harder into Hermione's artery and felt something. It was light and barely noticeable, but…it was something.

"Move, you idiot," Severus Snape barked, wrenching Ron from the girl's body and throwing him off. He leaned over and pressed his ear to the center of his chest. At the same time, he pressed two fingers to her throat.

"S-snape? Snape, what's wrong? W-what's h-happening?" Ron was stuttering through his sobs.

Snape looked up at the group of his people who had gathered around him and said, "She has a pulse."

There was a collection of gasps. Mostly because there was no way a body that looked like that couple possibly be alive. It was impossible to survive the obvious torment that she'd gone through.

The sound of Snape and Sprout whispering spells and Draco, Ron, and George murmuring with anticipation and worry, Bill looked around the large, filthy property. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. It was the same way he felt when in Egypt he entered the tomb and found an artifact without a curse on it, right in the middle of a chamber alone. It felt…like a trap.

"This was too easy," Luna whispered to Bill. He turned to look at her. "It was far too easy. She's obviously been chained somewhere and she's covered in blood, but barely any scratch marks. She should be in the basement. But…she's not."

Then he saw it. The basement door. It opened blindingly fast, shoving off the rug over top it, and a screeching laugh emerged from the opening.

"It's a trap!" Bill shouted at his group.

Immediately, six of his people were all spun towards the open basement door, wands out, in defensive stances circled around Hermione like a shield. Snape remained kneeling over her and saying spells over and over.

Even from four yards away, Bill could smell the inhabitants of the basement. There were two of them, and they were each wearing blood that wasn't their own. Rising from the door slowly and tauntingly were Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback.

"So you've come to collect your pet mudblood, yes?" Bellatrix said gleefully, with Greyback flanking her. "She was a rather troublesome guest at first, but she…warmed up to us, wouldn't you say, Fenrir?"

As an answer, Greyback gave a satisfied half-laugh half-growl from his throat.

"_What did you do to her_?" Ron demanded, the tears still coming down from his eyes.

"Nothing except what she deserved, filth like that," Bellatrix snarled. Bill had his wand trained steadily on her. She was the real threat. Greyback was her puppet. She was the puppeteer. Bill decided there was a very good chance that if Bellatrix was felled then Greyback would run for the hills. "Let's just say I do believe she will be getting along splendidly with…oh, what was that couple's name? Oh, yes! Frank and Alice Longbottom!"

Ron, barely breathing, hissed, "_No_…"

"_Yes_," Bellatrix countered sweetly. She grinned at Ron like a manic Cheshire cat. "It would've been a pity, killing a pretty thing like that. I rather thought I was doing you a favor, actually, little blood traitor. It's hard to marry a dead body. Not that anyone would want her now, not after she's been ruined and…deflowered." Bellatrix' composition broke and she busted out into uncontrollably laughter.

Every drop of blood ran from Ron's face and Bill couldn't blame him. He felt suddenly very light-headed himself. But he was more in control of himself than Ron.

"Stay where you are, Ron," Bill commanded. "She's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"That's right," Bellatrix cooed. "The same way Greyback got a _rise_ out of the mudblood."

Ron twitched forward and Bill thundered, "_I said don't move_!"

"Listen to your brother, Ronald," she sang. "Don't…move!" And she flung a full-body bind curse at Ron, his body going completely stiff like a board and falling over.

Bill shot a nonverbal curse towards Bellatrix that she blocked and Professor Sprout stepped forward to join, but was knocked aside with a wave of Greyback's hand. A battle began, five against two. It should have been easier than it was, Bill remembered thinking. Even with Ron body-bound and Snape tending to Hermione's nearly-dead body.

For some reason, the two Death Eaters were biding time. Bill didn't know what for, but they seemed perfectly content to just continue throwing up shield after shield with barely any offensive moves. Again, Bill felt something wasn't right.

Snape was over Hermione's body still. Her pulse had improved the slightest of bits and her chest moved, but he suspected broken ribs, possibly internal bleeding. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw something glitter in Hermione's short hair. It was a…pin. A small, decorative hair pin adorned with emeralds and tiny crystals. And it was…glowing. He reached out to touch it, and it was warm to the touch.

For a moment Snape looked at the battle and at how Greyback and Bellatrix were taking care to block off every curse but never send one back. It was strange…and then he saw from far away that something was glowing in Bellatrix's hair and on Greyback's hand.

Then it all clicked.

"William! They've got time-activating portkeys!" Snape shouted, but wasn't fast enough to pull the pin away from her hair. With a spinning sensation, Snape shut his eyes as he was pulled with Hermione as the portkey took them away.

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Twenty-Five and a Half

Time Since Severus Snape Went Missing: Ten Minutes

Snape landed heavily on a dirt floor in a big dark room. It reminded him of the dungeons at Hogwarts…

Wait. It _was_ the dungeons at Hogwarts.

Landing across the room on their feet with practiced grace were Greyback and Bellatrix. Bellatrix tossed back her ebony many of forest-like curls and tossed a spell to Hermione and their newest victim that had the chains on the walls sliver over and attach themselves to their ankles. Being behind bars, Snape found it useless to resist having his ankles manacled.

"Accio Severus's wand," Bellatrix uttered and his wand flew from his hand, through the bars, and into her hand. She grinned. "I always knew you were a phony, Severus. You may have carried the Dark Mark, but I always knew you'd betray your people."

"Oh, Bellatrix, I was never 'your people'," Snape drawled lazily, knowing that it was the best way to piss her off. "I would never lower myself to being Death Eater scum like yourself."

The first Crucio hit him hard, but he clenched his teeth and held still. Bellatrix tortured for the sake of hearing her victims scream. She enjoyed knowing she was causing pain. Snape wasn't going to hand her the satisfaction.

Once the pain ceased, Snape demanded, "How'd you penetrate the school's wards?"

"The wards haven't been replaced ever since the battle," Bellatrix said, sounding bored. "Stupid McGonagall. Reconstruction won't even begin for months. So for now it's just you, the mudblood, Greyback, and me for the time being. And tonight sure it going to be a party! Some might say that I'm a _luna_tic and Greyback can be quite the _animal_!" She screeched delightfully at her terrible attempt at a pun. "We'll leave you two to rest in preparation for the final act! You may want to make her drink these, though." Through the bars she rolled two small vials that rolled a bit but then just spun in circles.

Snape reached for them and looked at the contents. "What are these?"

Greyback growled, "You're the potions master, aren't ya? Why don't ya figure it out for yourself, Snape."

Uncorking the bottles Snape waved one and then the other under his nose for a moment each. "Dreamless Sleep and Blood Replenishing Draught?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I already said, Severus," Bellatrix said as if she was talking to a three-year-old. "I want her alive. She put up quite the fight this morning. Plenty of blood. If she swallows those, she'll be good and ready for tonight's events. Have fun!"

And then she and Greyback both Disapparated.

Snape half-crawled over to where Hermione was lying on the floor, still looking like a corpse. He propped her dead weight up with one arm and felt hot blood seep from her back. He must have reopened a wound by jostling her. Careful of the open slashes in her jaw, he cradled her chin and gently opened her mouth. He poured the Blood Replenishing Draught first and then the Dreamless Sleep, massaging her throat and coaxing her to swallow. Once he saw that it all went down, he braced her against his side while he removed the top two layers of his robes and wrapped the first around her and bundles the second into a pillow for her.

With a wry smile, he thought about how much amusement he would get from this once it was all over. Every moment he wasn't spent protecting Potter and his gangly and rash "buddies", he spent making them miserable. And here he was, tucking his student, Hogwarts' resident swot, into his robes.

Snape stood up and traveled the radius that his ankle chain allowed. To think, his quarters and classroom were only minutes away and he was stuck in a cage like an animal with two of the most bloodthirsty Death Eaters he knew.

He needed information. He needed to know everything they could have accidentally revealed to Hermione, but she was asleep and wouldn't be awake for a long time. He only had one option.

Sitting next to her, Snape brought his hand down to her head, closed his eyes, and infiltrated Hermione Granger's mind.

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A/N. PLEASE REVIEW! PLEEEEEASE?


	5. Chapter 5

…~oOo~…

Days Since Hermione Granger Went Missing: Twenty-Six

Time Since Severus Snape Went Missing: Six Hours

Hermione's mind had been a jigsaw puzzle. A shoddy quilt of moments of consciousness and crippling pain and numbers. He'd given up after two hours of trying to find something useful. All he could do now was wait for the Chosen One and his jolly crew of crusaders to find them.

For God's sake, they were at _Hogwarts_. He wanted to scream it to the skies, "_I'm at the bloody school, you degenerates!_" but he contained himself.

Every couple hours, Snape would take her pulse. It was improving, thank the gods, but she still was cold to the touch and bloody all over. The third time he took her pulse, her fingers twitched to touch his hand and weakly hold it, but she still did not wake. He wanted to examine her for injuries, but every time he moved her, she'd start bleeding again. And there wasn't as if he could do anything to fix her.

Severus Snape had no concept of time, but he knew the exact hour the moment Bellatrix came in, Greyback stumbling behind her. The muscles under his skin were all boiling visibly. He twitched all over.

The full moon was in the sky.

"_Aguamenti_!" Bellatrix shouted happily at Hermione. The water made Hermione wrench upward, sputtering. The robes she was wrapped in were soaked, as was her hair and the water dripping from her hair was pinkish from the abundance of blood nested in her locks. Still, she clutched to the fabric around her.

"Rise and shine, whore!" Bellatrix sang excitedly. She threw open the door and walked in to release Snape and petrify him. She dragged him from the cell, shoved Greyback in, and locked up the bars. "Greyback is very excited about his time with you tonight!"

With fur sprouting from his skin, Greyback let out an animalistic howl that filled the room completely and shook the bars.

"Hermione!" Snape shouted into the cage. "Stay…stay still! Don't make any sudden movements!"

Hermione, though, seemed not to register a word he said as she looked up at the beast transforming in front of her. Snape saw he mouth moving at an incredible pace, but knew she couldn't possibly be performing spells. She was muttering unintelligible things as she curled her knees up to her chest and tucked her face into them.

Clutching the bars to Hermione's cell, Snape hissed, "Bellatrix, you let her out right now or…" For once Snape was at a loss for words. He had no threats. He was powerless. He tried pulling away from the bars to do something, anything, but his hands would not move.

"Or…what, Severus? What're you gonna do?" Bellatrix whispered into Severus's ear. She reached out and moved a lock of his hair from his face and Snape had to force the bile back down his throat. "You can't do anything. You're going to stand right where you are for the rest of the night and enjoy the show."

"_He'll BITE her, Bellatrix_!" Severus bellowed.

"Oh, don't be stupid!" she said flippantly. "He's not going to bite her. With all her injuries and weakened mind, she'd never survive the infection. He's taken Wolfsbane, he knows what he's doing."

Inside the cell, Greyback snarled. She was hiding her face from him - hated that. He wanted to see the face she made while he cut her and sliced her and touched her all over. He took his paw and buried it in her hair, gripping her scalp and pulling her face up, eliciting a painful scream from her throat. He smiled and nudged her hard with his massive snout. He wanted her to run. He wanted to chase her, to conquer her, the way a wolf would with his mate.

Another hard shove with his head and she tipped over, falling to her side. Her borrowed robes fell open and Greyback eyes the delicious stretch of skin. A possessive rush went through him and the Wolf lingering in his mind kept muttering, _Mine, mine, all mine…_

Hermione started crawling backwards, dragging her bruised and bony legs. Her eyes were wet and wide, but unfocused. She continued muttering to herself.

Greyback was disappointed to find that she could barely move, which meant no running. Oh well. He stalked over to her quivering body and positioned himself over her while she cringed, but laid on her back, almost…resigned. Her tears dissolved and she was lying under the massive werewolf, eyes closed, and lips shut tight. She lay as if she were in a coffin.

Though he'd never been in wolf form, Hermione knew what was coming next when he was over top her. She found the easiest way to deal with it was if she stay still and not struggle - not that she could do much else. So she lie under the heat-radiating and sniffling wolf and did her multiplication tables from where she left off.

The wolf's long tongue dragged its way from her bra-covered breast, up her neck, to her face and to her temple. She didn't flinch this time.

Snape wondered if maybe she'd gone into shock, but came to very grim realization…she'd grown used to this. She was accustom to pain and for this monster to dangle over her, crush her with his hairy, heavy body, and licking her.

Then there was a boisterous crash and everyone turned to the source, the dungeon entrance, apart from Hermione who continued to mutter and hum and have her eyes serenely shut.

Hermione liked the numbers. It numbed the pain. It made nights easier. She did not, however, like all the shouting currently going on, so she kept her eyes closed. The yelling and zapping and crackling lasted for a long time. There was a lot of growling and snarling too. A voice that sounded oddly familiar…no, it couldn't be familiar…but it sounded like a memory…

What memory, though? The only memories she had were of basements, chains, and pain. And numbers. Lots and lots of numbers…

…

The Healers at St. Mungo's were in a frenzy. It was all hands on deck as Hermione, on a rolling cot, was being pushed through the halls. She wasn't unconscious, though. No. She was screaming as if someone were plunging a knife into her repeatedly. She was thrashing and half-closed wounds reopened, the blood pouring out and dying the white sheets under her crimson. The Healers were all pleading with her to calm down, but all she did was scream, the only words she used her numbers, and she was flailing to try and hit the medi-witches.

Once they hexed her arms and legs to remain stick down, though, she continued wailing and screeching. They were hesitant to use anymore magic on her before they knew for sure what kind of magic she was under, so they let her yell.

Harry and Ron were running close on the Healer's heels, both sweating and crying and filthy from their small battle in the Hogwarts dungeons. This time, it was a dozen against one witch and a werewolf. Neville took the liberty to turn Bellatrix to ash with one of the fastest Avada Kedavras Harry had ever seen, and Bill Weasley took pleasure in ending Greyback. The look on Bill's face, though, after Greyback fell lifeless to the ground, his body morphing back into human, was horrific. Harry hated to admit it, but it was sadistic kind of joy that Bellatrix Lestrange often wore.

"Hey! Ron, Harry!"

The boys looked over their shoulder to find Bill, his eyes still shining unnaturally, sprinting after them, falling into step with them as they followed Hermione's cot.

"Where's Snape?" Bill inquired as they ran.

"He's causing hell on the second floor," Harry panted. "No injuries…just pissing off the medi-witches…"

The Healers rolled Hermione into a private room and shut the door on Harry, Bill, and Ron. Ron, grumbling angrily, banged on the door and rattled the doorknob. One of the medi-witches walked out and pushed him away from the door. "Stop your banging this instant! Your friend is an inch from death and your ruckus isn't helping the Healers!"

"You have to let us in to see her!" Ron shouted desperately.

"We will inform you the moment we have news, Mr. Weasley. Now Mr. Potter, Mr.'s Weasley, please return to the waiting room, this instant!" she commanded, very much sounding like Madame Pomfrey.

Harry dragged Ron by his sleeve back the way they came, but Bill was coming down from the full moon high and slumped against the wall next to Hermione's door, sliding down until he was on the floor and listening to the screams that seeped from the crack under the door.

…

Three Days Later

"Four-hundred and five," the girl whispered to the Healer the next day. They kept giving her nasty-tasting drinks that made her sleepy and she hated it. It was frustrating. It was hard to multiply numbers when you were so tired.

"What's that, Miss Granger?" the man asked curiously as he wrote on his little notes.

She didn't understand that, either. Everyone kept calling her Hermione and Miss Granger and she wasn't any of those things. She was "mudblood" - her arm said so. Didn't they see it?

"The room is called one-hundred and thirty-five…and you say I've been here for three days….One-hundred thirty-five times three is four-hundred and five."

The Healer gave her a warm smile. "You're very right, Miss Granger."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she asked, curiosity finally getting the best of her.

The Healer noticeably paled. "It's your name, isn't it?"

She shook her head weakly.

"Then, what's your name?"

She lifted her forearm with great effort and underlined her very permanent nametag with her finger.

The Healer shook his head morosely. "Miss Granger…that isn't your name."

The girl felt her eyebrows furrow. "I…I don't understand."

"Perhaps you'd like to see your friends now?" he asked, completely changing the subject.

Friends?

A few minutes later, people walked into the room and each of their faces flashed in her mind like a slideshow of tiny memories. She remembered that a few weeks ago, she would mentally picture each of these people and talk to them for a bit. It's funny, she hadn't remembered doing that until now.

She was sitting up and wrapped in gauze everywhere. She liked the gauze. She would poke it and when she poked hard enough, a tiny red flower would bloom in the middle of the white. The medi-witches would tell her to stop, but she had no clue why.

The people all came around her in circles, all looked hesitant and nervous.

"One-thousand, two-hundred, fifteen," she declared.

The people all looked at one another and Healer promptly explained, "It's a game she's been playing. It seems to calm her. What numbers make one-thousand, two-hundred, fifteen, Hermione?"

There he goes again with the "Hermione" nonsense, she thought with a roll of her eyes. "Nine people in room one-hundred thirty-five. Nine times one-thirty-five equals one-thousand two-hundred-fifteen."

No one knew what to say to that.

The girl giggled. They were all standing so still and shaky like trees in a breeze.

One of them, a boy she recognized with fire hair and spots on his face walked closer, took the seat next to her bed, and reached out for her hand. "Hermione, love, what happened?"

She didn't answer and Ron turned to the healer and asked, "Why does she look so confused?"

"Apparently, she has no recollection of being called 'Hermione'," he informed sadly. "Hermione, do you remember this young man?"

Hermione thought long and hard. "Kind of…Oh, yes! You're Rumplestiltskin."

Shaking his head, he looked at his family and friends, looking confused and hurt. "Who the bloody hell is Rumplewhattayacallit? Do I look like him?"

"Rumplestiltskin, Ron," Harry explained. "He's a muggle fairytale character. Um…Hermione…I mean, whatever you want to be called…Who am I?"

She took a long, thoughtful pause, before diagnosing confidently, "Snow White."

Harry's face turned bright red and Snape snickered.

"Whose Snow White?" Ron asked.

"Another fairytale character," Snape explained quietly. "A beautiful young woman who eats a poisoned apple from her step-mother and falls into a magical sleep, only to be awoken by a prince's kiss."

Ron couldn't help but grin to himself.

Luna said, "You should be quite flattered, Harry. Snow White was supposed to be the fairest in the land."

Grumbling, Harry said, "Thanks, Luna."

"And me?" Draco inquired.

"You're Prince Charming," the girl in the bed said, not missing a beat.

Harry groaned and face-palmed himself.

"Lemme guess," Ron said mischievously, looking to Snape. "Prince Charming is the one to kiss Snow White awake?"

"Correct," Snape said, barely containing his amusement. "I suppose, though, that the reason she associates Potter with Snow White is his coloring. Like the princess, he has black hair, pale white skin, and green eyes."

"And it should be obvious why I'm Prince Charming," Draco said, grinning widely, pushing his shoulders back proudly. "But, Potter, if you ever get put in a magical coma and need me to kiss you awake, you're out of luck."

"Noted," Harry murmured, arms crossing in frustration. Why did he have to be the girl?

Hermione paid no attention to the explanation and pointed to the dreamy-looking blonde girl. "And that's Rapunzel!"

Luna gave a gentle smile. "How sweet. I don't mind being Rapunzel at all. Perhaps I should start growing my hair out?" she asked absently, touching her hair thoughtfully.

"And who am I, love?" Ginny asked, reaching out to touch her friend's knee through the blanket.

"The Red Queen, of course." Hermione nodded firmly.

"Isn't that the queen from Wonderland that's always chopping off people's heads?" Harry asked.

Draco snorted, and Ron and Bill couldn't help but chuckle themselves.

"And you're Jack," the patient said, reaching out to touch Neville's elbow. "Shame about those magic beans, yeah?"

"Okay, now I'm really confused," Neville declared.

"Jack and the Beanstalk, I believe," Snape said, seeming to be half distracted by his thoughts. "Might be because of your penchant for herbology."

"Okay, I've gotta know. Who am I?" Bill wondered.

"The Wolf," Hermione said. She then pointed to Molly, "And you're Granny."

"Not quite yet, love, but hopefully soon," Molly said, looking pointedly at her oldest son, the "Wolf".

Harry chuckled. "No, she means like Granny from Red Riding Hood. A little girl's grandmother is sick and she's supposed to bring her a basket of baked goods from the girl's mother. The girl, Red Riding Hood, her mother says not to stray from the path in the woods, but she does anyway and meets the Wolf. The Wolf goes ahead of Red and eats her Granny and puts on the old woman's nightclothes and hides in her bed. Red gets there and the Wolf impersonates the Granny until he finally pounces and eats Red as well. A nearby lumberjack hears the screams and finds the Wolf, cuts open his stomach and frees Granny and Red."

"Wonderful," Bill said, his face curled in repulsion.

"That's not true." Hermione was shaking her head fervently, her short curls whacking her face.

"What really happens, then?" Bill asks curiously.

"I dunno, you tell me. You _are_ Wolf, after all," Hermione said as if it should be obvious.

Every gave a little laugh at that.

Finally Snape spoke up. "I positively cringe at the thought of inquiring, but I dare ask, who am I, Miss Granger?"

"Why, you're Professor Snape, of course," Hermione said casually.

Everyone froze.

Nervous at everyone's sudden silence, Hermione asked, "Did I get it wrong? Are you not Professor Snape?"

"No, you are correct, I am. That is why we are…baffled," Snape explained. He turns to Harry. "I don't suppose there is a new muggle fairytale character named Professor Snape, is there?"

"Afraid not."

"Thought not. Miss Granger, if we are all who you say we are, then who are _you_?"

"I'm…" Hermione seemed to think for a long time. "Red Riding Hood," she finally said.

"I eat you?" Bill asked, more confused than ever.

"Well, I'd hope not," Hermione said with a grimace. She looked around, at each person. "Where's Mad Hatter?"

"The Mad Hatter," Harry said thoughtfully. "Another Wonderland character. He wears a hat and wild clothing, he's supposed to be insane and hosts constant tea parties with his friends who are mice and rabbits."

"Oh, that one's easy then," Ron said, as if it made perfect sense. "It's George, obviously."

Bill grinned, his smile rippled his scars.

"Is this George missing an ear?" Hermione said, tapping the side of her head.

"Yes, he is," Molly answered.

"Then, yes, that's the Mad Hatter."

"Ah-hah!" Ron said victoriously. "I'm getting the hang of this, aren't I, love?" He gave Hermione's hand a slight squeeze. "Tell me about Rumplestiltskin."

"He steals children," Harry said bluntly.

Ron sputtered. "Bloody hell?"

"Yeah, mate. Wouldn't mind being Snow White right now, would ya?"

"I dunno. I mean, if I would have to kiss Malfoy… I'd rather snatch up children any day."

"Many have described kissing me to feeling like a lotus floating on the crystal water," Malfoy said, crossing his arms. "If you'd rather be a pervert, stealing children than kiss me, well fine by me. You'd probably taste like Weasel anyway."

"While you all bicker about being people you obviously are not, may I remind you that the reason you've been given these characters are because your best friend has been tortured to insanity," Snape snapped furiously.

That really sobered the room up.

"I don't think I understand what you mean, Professor," Hermione said. "I'm perfectly fine."

"No, my dear, you are not," he said automatically.

No one missed that fact that Professor Snape just called Hermione is "dear". But no one said anything for fear of losing the privilege of breathing.

"I feel fine. Well, except all the pain. And the words," Hermione said with a small shrug.

"What words?"

The Healer cut in at this point. "I believe that is for another day -"

"No, it's alright," Hermione said, already twisting in her bed. Everyone couldn't help but notice how everything she said was half-emotionless half-dreamy, very much like Luna when she goes on about Nargles. Also, there was an undeniable undertone of childishness that she possessed, like she was more twelve than eighteen.

The Healer hurried over, saying, "Really, Hermione, they probably aren't ready to see -"

She was struggling to flip herself over. "No, it's okay, really -"

"Hermione, stop moving, you've damage your bandaging -" the Healer reached out to hold her shoulder, but she was growing increasingly frustrated as he fought his hands, smacking his wrists and wiggling uncontrollably.

All her visitors took a healthy step back from her bed while the Healers called out for a med-witch's help.

Hermione was grunting and kicking and yelling. Then, as the medi-witch came in to hold her legs, she continued throwing her body around and began saying a long stream of numbers, her eyes squeezed shut.

A third medi-witch came in to help, but stopped to tell the visitors gently, "It'd probably be best for you all to go home. Get a few hours of sleep, eat up, and come back tomorrow at visiting hours. If anything changes, we'll owl immediately."

With that, they all left the room, hearing Hermione's string of numbers behind them.

They were almost all the way down the hall, ready to exit that floor when the numbers abruptly ended and suddenly the blood-curdling screams were, "PROFESSOR SNAPE! _SNAPE_! PLEASE, _PROFESSOR_! _SEVERUS_!"

All of them were too shocked to catch Snape's expression before he spun on his heels and strode purposefully down back down the hall to Hermione's room and disappearing behind the door.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N. HI EVERYONE! Here's a update! It'll be a few days before the next one, though. I just want to start spacing them out a little bit.

HEY HEY HEY, READ THIS, IT'S IMPORTANT: I have started a new story, which will become a series of novel-length stories, called Teddy Lupin: The Wolf, the Witch, and the Wraith. It's a lot more in-depth than this one, and will be written more like the actual Harry Potter series, with this mega plot line and lots of adventure, but more romance than J.K. Rowling involved.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. Wish I did, thought. More's the pity, I suppose.

* * *

Ron was lying across the sofa at the Burrow. His head was tipped back against the armrest and one arm was draped across his eyes, the other clutching a glass of fire whiskey in his lap.

It'd been two weeks since Hermione was found and put in St. Mungo's. She was healing up physically, but the mental end of it…

Well…the girl _was_ mental.

Ron hated to admit it, but he felt betrayed. How could she have forgotten him so completely? And when she does say she remembers something, she describes some kind of obscure scene that's a mix between reality and fairytale.

And then there was the jealousy.

Out of everyone's name to remember, why Snape? And why was it that when Snape wasn't in the room, her condition suddenly got worse and she'd start screaming until he came back? Why was she suddenly best friends with their evil potions professor?

It. Made. No. Sense.

Harry tried reasoning with him that Snape was the first face she'd seen in months when she and him were being held captive together for those couple hours.

What bothered Ron even more was that Snape had taken on the role of ministering angel like he was a natural born Healer and caregiver. Hah ! Ron could laugh. Yeah, right. The man hated people and hated Hermione more than normal people. It was mind-boggling. Out of nowhere, he'd stopped calling Hermione "the swot" or "know-it-all" and instead spoke quietly and softly to her when coaxing her into taking her medicine.

Ron kind of felt guilty, too. He'd been trying to visit her as much as Snape, but he'd get to the hospital and then just…not. Sometimes he'd hang in the waiting room or linger in the doorway, but he only could go in a few times. It was pathetic, but…Hermione kind of made him nervous now. The way she was always saying those numbers or having a conversation/argument with herself, or how she'd completely zone out and stare at a wall for full minutes before coming back down to earth.

It was…freaky. Like she was possessed. It wasn't _his_ Hermione.

And then…there was the day where a medi-witch Apparated into the room.

Hermione went absolutely barmy. She wailed like a banshee, started bawling, and curled into a ball to start rocking back and forth…saying the numbers.

No one made the mistake of Apparating near her ever again.

There were little improvements, though. Like she finally accepted that her name was Hermione, offering up her middle name completely on her own. So there were still some memories there, just buried deep.

The Healers were talking about her psychosis being similar to being Obliviated. When you're Obliviated for a long amount of time and then finally given the counter-spell, a lot of the time memories got buried or traded or lost.

Hermione had indeed gone insane from torture, but she was only on the very edge of insanity. They said there was a fifty-fifty chance of bringing her back, but they promised that even if they could somehow regain her recollection of a couple years, she'd never be fully recovered. She'd always be obsessed with numbers, she'd always go on about the deaths of Beauty and the Beast - Tonks and Lupin, they'd learn - and would always bicker with herself.

They were thinking about bringing in a trained Legilimens. Someone who could pick into her brain and bring forth and tuck away certain memories to hopefully spark some recognition. Their main concern was getting her to remember the people around her. All the strange little ticks were there to stay, but the amnesia needed to go.

Snape had thrown quite the fit - well, as much of a fit as that man could throw - when they said he couldn't be the Legilimens to go into Hermione's head. They needed a professional. He'd scoffed at them and said that they weren't going to get anyone more professional than he was. They'd said that he wasn't objective. He'd said they were pathetic excuses for Healers and wizards and should go play in a sandbox while the grown-ups did what they did best. They'd thrown him out of the room. Hermione'd gone psychotic. They'd begrudgingly allowed him back in.

It was all quite amusing, looking back on it.

"It'll be alright, you know."

Ron opened his eyes. Leaning in the doorway of the living room was his oldest brother, the man responsible for finding Hermione and bringing her home. His shoulder-length red hair was wet and he was shirtless, a t-shirt hanging over his shoulder.

Ron replied, "No, it won't be. She'll never be my Hermione again."

With a sad shrug, Bill said, "That may be so…but at least she's alive."

"This might sound terrible, but from what I've heard about being tortured to insanity, it's better being dead."

Bill paused. "You're probably right. But Hermione isn't completely insane."

"He thinks you're a wolf that eats little girls and that I'm a tiny man who steals children."

"Yeah, that's pretty bizarre, I'll give you that." Bill chuckled to himself. "But there's hope. I mean, Snape says that sometimes when the Healer is telling her about a new potion she'll be taking, she'll just randomly spout out the ingredients and their properties. So the old Hermione _is _in there, she just…needs to be brought to the surface."

Ron smirked to himself. "She _is _always bossing the medi-witches around."

"See? She's Hermione, just a little…different."

Grimly, Ron pointed out, "She argues with herself."

Bill shrugged. "So do I, sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"The werewolf half of me. He has a voice in my head. He tries to tell me to do stuff, but I end up arguing with him. Because I don't go through the Change, he doesn't have any real control over me."

"That sounds…schizophrenic," Ron observed, sounding uneasy.

"Probably. But I've gotten used to it. He doesn't really tell me to do bad things."

"What does he tell you to do, then?"

Bill's smile was crooked and slightly chagrinned. "Usually he tells me to shag every woman I see. Or to eat raw meat. Little things. He has a inclination to look down shirts and up skirts." Bill gave a shrug like, "what're you gonna do, ya know?" but Ron still thought it was weird.

Then Ron became curious and suspicious. "Does your wolf want to shag Hermione?"

Oh, fuck. Bill tried to feign boredom, scratching his face absently and taking his time answering, like it didn't at all matter. "Naw, mate. Used to. I mean. Once or twice, yeah, but you know how she was. All crazy hair." _The kind of hair a man couldn't help but get his hands into. _"And then she got, you know, womanly. She wasn't a twig anymore." _A perfect, slim hourglass with provocative hips that swung to music that wasn't there. _"But only once or twice," he clarified.

_William Weasley, you are the biggest liar in both wizarding and muggle worlds. _

Ever since he'd met Hermione when she was still a gawky fourth year and her teeth were still slightly too large, he had to stay away. He'd been twenty-four years old and he had truly, honestly considering seducing her. She was fifteen and he was a handsome, older man. All he'd have to do is lay on a little charm, steal her virtue, then run like a bat out of hell and never have to worry about it again.

But no. Fred had seen the way Bill looked at her and made it very clear that if any Weasley was going to have his way with Hermione Granger, it would be him or his twin. Fred had also mentioned that Bill was a pedophile. So he'd given up on than venture, but that didn't stop him from looking…or dreaming…or fantasizing…

While his wolf was still eager for her, Bill felt nothing but an opulence of affection and protectiveness for the near-insane girl at St. Mungo's. He was there most hours of the day. For the first time ever he took a vacation from work, a week and a half. His first day back was today and he'd come home to change before heading to the hospital to have dinner with her and say goodnight.

Ron said, "Alright…as long as it was only a couple times. 'Cause you know how I feel about her."

"'_Feel'_, Ronald? Or '_felt'_ ?" Bill asked skeptically.

His youngest brother sighed. "I don't know."

"Well, while you're here getting plastered alone, I'm off to pay Red Riding Hood a visit before she's given her nighttime potions. They make her a bit loopy and I'd hate to miss that, she's a hoot." He smiled and swung his t-shirt over his head, wiggling it on as he walked to the fireplace. "I'll tell her you said goodnight."

Ron gave a nod and a grunt.

Rolling his eyes, Bill took a healthy handful of floo powder and stepped into his fireplace. He cleared pronounced, "St. Mungo's" and he was off.

…

Room one-hundred and thirty-five was empty. The bed sheets were twisted and wrinkled and the seat next to the bed had a permanent bum-print in it. Potions were waiting on the little table beside the bed, waiting to be drunk. Fear rising in his chest, Bill looked at each of the potion vials and realized they were the special Calming Draught and other enhanced medicines that stabilized Hermione's mood and kept the voices in her head pleasant. It was the stuff that Hermione had to take to prevent psychotic breaks.

And she hadn't taken a single one of them.

"Oh, shit," Bill groaned, running from the room, looking frantically for a medi-witch or Healer that didn't look terribly busy of give him dirty looks when he tried to get their attention. He ran to the floor's center desk and knocked on the top of it to get the medi-witch secretary's attention.

She scowled. "Yes?"

"Hermione Granger isn't in her room and she hasn't taken any of her potions," he urgently reported.

"Oh, _that_ one." The woman left out an exasperated huff. "She's been in and out of bed all day, causing a right ruckus everywhere. She suddenly deemed her potions unnecessary and is currently still missing after her last 'little' fit."

Bill felt his eyes get huge. How could this woman be so flip about this? A patient with a psychosis was on the lose. "Would you mind telling me where I could find her Healer?"

She shrugged. "He's still looking for her. So is the strange, scary man that's always at her bedside. Her father, I think."

Letting out a bark of a laugh, he said, "He's not her father. Make sure not to let him hear you thought that. Thank you, I guess." He pushed away from the desk and started jogging towards the stairs. They were in the middle-most floor of the building, so he had to choose…up or down?

Then he remembered yesterday when Hermione had been worked to tears because the Healers wouldn't let her have chocolate pudding. He would go down, towards the cafeteria. He took the stairs two and a time, and eventually came to the right floor. He ran to the cafeteria and threw the door open, only to literally crash right into a tall, imposing figure wearing a white button-up and slacks.

Snape.

"Weasley, there you are," the man said, sounding very slightly frantic. It was barely noticeable, but from the tense, clipped words he was providing, as opposed to his usual condescending drawl, one knew something wasn't right. "Have you seen Hermione?"

Bill tried not to smile that he used her first name, but said, "No, I just got here. Secretary on her floor was saying she's been missing for a bit."

Growling, Snape said, "That useless penguin at the desk, yes, she's a special one. She lacks the competence to keep track of the patients leaving their rooms." He marched out of the cafeteria, motioning for Bill to follow. "I went to get Miss Granger new socks from the gift shop, I was gone for less than five minutes, and then it was as if she Disapparated. No one's seen her, she's taken none of her medicine, and if she doesn't turn up soon, so help me I will have that medi-witch secretary fired."

"She'll turn up, Professor," Bill said firmly. "She couldn't have left the hospital - there are wards preventing that." His and his old potions teacher's strides matched as the strode down the hall, looking left and right for a signature bush of curly brown hair

"May I remind you that this is the brightest witch of the age that we are hunting for?" Snape grumbled. "Though her mental faculties are not exactly in line as of late does not mean she has a very powerful talent for wandless magic. She doesn't even realize she's using it most of the time. I do not have a single doubt in my mind that if she wanted to leave the hospital, she would damn well find a way."

"Did the Healers put a tracking spell on her?"

Snape paused before saying, "She removed it."

"_How_?"

"We don't _know_," he confessed bitingly. "But I would appreciate it if you stopped highlighting my flaws as a babysitter and focused on finding a half-insane, but powerful and brilliant witch, that at any moment could escape!"

Bill shut up and continued keeping his eyes open.

Eventually they came across a wing that as of late was becoming a looming presence for Hermione and her caretakers. The Incurable wing on the floor for magical maladies and injuries.

Both Snape and Bill halted at the sight of a boy they both knew well.

"Neville," Bill said, giving him a small smile. "What're you doing around here?"

"Just visiting my mum and dad," the tall, lanky boy said with a genuine smile. "I'm guessing you two are looking for Hermione, yeah?"

"Yes," Bill and Snape said in urgent unison.

Neville chucked. "She and my dad are playing a game of chess. Well…_trying_ to play a game at chess. They're both rubbish at it. I think they've gone to just using the pieces to play a wonky game of checkers."

Bill let out a sigh of relief and saw Snape's jaw lose its tautness.

"Thank Merlin," Bill said. "We were worried she'd leave the premises."

"Aren't there wards for that?"

"Yes, well, she's managed to remove her tracing charm, so we aren't feeling secure about those wards right about now."

"Oi. Clever one, she is," Neville said, sounding impressed.

"Mr. Longbottom, if you wouldn't mind leading us to where Miss Granger is hiding…" Snape prompted.

"Of course, sir," Neville answered immediately, never meeting Snape's eyes. The boy still had a terrible fear for the man, no doubt what his boggart would be.

Neville brought them to a very organized recreational room for the patients in the incurable wing. It was filled with different types of games like Exploding Snaps, Wizards Chess, normal checkers, as well as some muggle toys and things.

The only people currently in the room were Hermione and Frank Longbottom.

"My mum's in bed. She's knackered from chatting with Hermione," Neville explained to Bill. "One day you'll have to meet her. She's great."

Bill gave Neville a firm pat on the shoulder and said, "I look forward to it, mate."

Hermione was sitting cross-legged on her chair, her hospital gown hiked high on her thighs and she leaned forward on her elbows and looked concentrated at the board in front of her. The man sitting across from her in matching flannel pajamas and slippers was very distracted, his dreamy gaze floating everywhere in the room. It reminded Bill very much of Hermione when she lies in bed, sometime she'll just start following the path of something that isn't there.

Hermione scratched the bottom of her very bare feet that were now filthy from her adventures around the hospital without shoes. Of course, she hated shoes. When she goes for her walks, she screams and screams at her Healer until he agrees to let her go without shoes. Only recently was she letting Snape put socks on her, and even then she gave a good fight.

"Hermione," Snape said, coming up from behind her.

She gave a little jump and turned around to see her professor looking down at her in a very disapproving manner. She gave a careless grin and said, "Hello, Snape."

He pulled a pair of wooly blue socks from his pocket and said, "I got your socks."

The girl scowled and turned back to Frank. "Mr. Longbottom, this is Severus Snape. Severus, this is Frank Longbottom."

"Yes, we went to school together," Snape said gently, causing the other man to look very nonplussed, as if he was trying very hard to remember "school". "If you don't mind, Frank, I must get Hermione back to her room. We've been looking all over for her." He gave her a very stern glare.

Hermione shrugged. "I needed to get out. Goodbye, Frank! Feel well! I'll come visit you and Alice very soon!" She popped up from her seat and started for the door and only made it to the hall before Snape cleared his throat. "Yes?" she said innocently.

Again, Snape held up the socks pointedly.

The girl groaned. "I don't want them!"

"I know you don't want them but you still have to wear them. Now hold still." Snape dropped to his knees and reached for one of her ankles, but she quickly swerved away.

"No!" And then she started running.

"I'm getting too old for this," Snape intoned before standing up and fast-walking in her direction. "This entire experience is only proof that I was fortunate to never have had children."

Neville and Bill were keeping up with Snape.

Neville said meekly, "I think you'd make a pretty good father, actually, sir."

Bill said, amused, "I'm not so sure about that, really, mate. His kid would be spoiled rotten. You should see how he sneaks Hermione sweets after the Healers say no and how he only makes her take half some of the potions. If he had a kid, he'd let 'em get away with murder."

"Oh, belt it, the both of you," Snape hissed. "How I would hypothetically raise my children is none of your concern. Just find Hermione."

Bill snatched the fuzzy blue socks from Snape's hand and said, "I'll find her and have these socks on her in record time." He sprinted ahead of his companions and made a few quick turns in the labyrinth-like corridors of St. Mungo's hospital. Hermione's scent was still fresh since she'd just been there and he followed it, sharp turn after sharp turn.

Finally, he found that her delicious scent was especially strong and lingering right at a closet that was used for spare blankets for patients. Bill pressed his nose to the door, took a deep breath in, and knew she was in there. Counting to three, he wrenched the door open and Hermione squealed in surprise. Bill scooped the girl up and slung her over his shoulder. He expected her to kick and yell and have a fit, but instead she was laughing, good and loud and full. It was nice to hear her in high spirits, so on the way to her room, he spun around a few times, receiving more happy squeals. Her dirt feet were close to his feet and he made a mental note to have a medi-witch wash her feet well before she went to bed.

As they Bill passed hustling and bustling Healers, he only got a select few stares for carrying a patient over his shoulder, but in the same breath Hermione had earned quite the reputation over the past couple weeks. The entire hospital was familiar with her antics and welcomed any method of getting her to behave.

Once he carried her up a couple flights of stairs, they were back on her floor and his kicked open her room's door and place her carefully back on the bed. Along with her feet being in her face, so were her yellow-spattered and burn-covered legs. The bruises were healing and the burns were scarring over, but they still looked painful and he didn't want to jostle her too much for fear of opening wrapped wounds.

"Now, hold still!" Bill told his, teasingly stern and she laughed some more. He took hold of her ankles and slid on the socks as fast as he could. "Isn't that better? You had to have been chilly. At least you won't catch cold now that you're feet are warm."

She grimaced and wiggled her toes. "I hate socks."

"I know."

"And shoes."

"I know, love. How are your cuts doing?"

She shrugged and pulled up her gown shamelessly, displaying her panties and the words across her stomach.

This was another thing about this new Hermione. Old Hermione would never in a thousand years just flip up her hospital gown to show her scars. New Hermione had absolutely no inhibitions or a conscience.

The words were still enflamed and horrid looking, but healing. "They're getting better," he noted.

"My back isn't."

Bill's eyebrows furrowed. "What's on your back? Burns?"

She shook her head. "More words."

Bill's heart skipped a beat. "What kind of words?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know all of them. I can't see them, after all. Would you like to see them?"

Bill opened his mouth to answer, but Snape's voice intoned from the doorway saying, "Hermione, put your gown back down. How many times must I tell you that it is improper to just flash half of your naked body to people without warning?"

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! *PUPPY POUT*

~So Long And Thanks For All The Fish~


	7. Chapter 7

…~oOo~…

Bill's eyebrows rose almost up to his hairline. "You mean to say this happens often?" he said incredulously.

"Unfortunately," Snape confirmed. "The other day a new medi-wizard came in to replace her bandaging on her back. The poor boy was subject to Hermione throwing off her entire nightgown. In only her undergarments, she turned over like it was the most natural thing in the world to be almost entirely naked in front of someone she doesn't know."

"That's…interesting."

"It's intolerable." Snape tossed Hermione a dark look that she shrugged off, but put down her gown and re-tied her robe. "The boy immediately had himself reassigned."

"He works in a hospital, for goodness sake!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head. "You can't tell me he hasn't seen anything worse than my body…I know it's pretty gross and all, but _still_!"

Dropping down into his usual seat beside her bed, Snape sighed and gave no response. "Are you ready for your potions yet?"

Predictably, Hermione shook her head as she leaned over to dig through the drawer in her bedside to pull out a notebook and quill. She flipped through a bunch of filled pages and began scratching out lines and numbers.

"What're you up to?" Bill asked, trying to stretch his neck to see, but Hermione immediately pulled the parchment to her chest to hide her work.

"It's a secret," she said simply. She put the notebook bad down, but kept one arm shielding it from Bill's view.

"She's been doing a series of equations," Snape told Bill with a shrug. "Arithmancy was never my strong point."

"I'm pretty fair at Arithmancy," Bill said conversationally to Hermione, hoping it earned him some right to see her equations. "Got my O.W.L. in it and everything."

Hermione eyed him skeptically.

"It's true! I'll bring you my O.W.L. results tomorrow and prove it to you," he said, offering her a smile.

"Snow…I mean, Harry says I took twelve O.W.L.s," Hermione said, still staring down at her work and adding line after line and then calculating on the next page.

"So did I, actually," Bill said.

"When do the results get sent?" she asked, not sounding like she cared much at all. Snape was very worried about that. Whenever someone brought up exams, she should have been in a nervous, nail-biting tizzy over her scores or whether or not she studied enough or cursing the fact her results hadn't arrive yet.

"In about a month," Snape said. "But don't fret about them, just focus on healing."

"I'm not all that worried. I've been told I'm rather intelligent," Hermione said, sounding bemused.

"You're a bloody genius," Bill responded with a laugh. "You're nose is always in a book."

"Harry brought me a copy of Hogwarts: A History. He said it's my favorite."

"That, it is."

"I like it," she said noncommittally.

It was quiet for a few moments.

"Ready for your potions, then?" Bill finally said.

"_No_," Hermione said firmly, never looking up from her notes.

"You need to take them."

"I'm fine. I haven't killed anyone yet, so can we count that as a victory and all move on?"

"The feat of not killing anyone is indeed a victory, I suppose," Snape mused, who no doubt considered killing multiple people, multiple times of the day.

Bill took a gander over the different potions all lined up and waiting to be drunk. One he didn't notice and held it up to the light to examine the contents. "What's this one for?"

Snape answered, "It's to increase sensitivity."

"Why?"

"The consistent use of the Cruciatus curse damaged her nerve endings. Her brain isn't as receptive to pain."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Bill observed.

"It's a blessing and a curse. For one, nothing hurts quite as much. But, of course, certain activities such as…intimate moments will be different for her."

"How so?"

"No way to tell. Simply…different."

"Well, considering I've never had consensual sex, it's not as if I'd be able to make a comparison anyhow," Hermione chipped in. She seemed to be in the middle of drawing a very long, straight line that she was being absurdly careful with. It had to be straight.

The oldest Weasley boy's heart dropped. "So…" Bill swallowed. "It's true. Greyback really…you know…"

"I thought it'd been obvious," Snape said darkly.

"I thought so, it just hadn't been confirmed. I was still hoping that…well…"

"Hoping that he hadn't raped her thrice a day for a month?" Snape snapped with a sneer, but not at Bill. He was staring into space, no doubt imagining how wonderful it would have been to kill Greyback himself. "I hate to say, but I was hoping the same thing, even while I was locked up with her."

"Well, the bastard's dead, I'm happy to report," Bill said dryly. "He can't hurt her or anyone else anymore."

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Hermione said. "I still have ears."

"I'm sorry, love," Bill apologized. "Just thought you were busy, is all."

She didn't say anything, just persisted with her Arithmancy religiously.

"Okay, here's the deal," Bill continued. "If you drink those potions, I will get you a lifetime supply of chocolate pudding that I will make sure the Healers never find out about."

She lifted her head from her notebook, seeming to think for a good half-minute and then said, "Severus, if you wouldn't mind passing me those potions…"

…

"I've been told that bribery is a poor tactic to use when raising children," Snape said as he and Bill were downstairs at the cafeteria, getting coffee and Hermione's pudding. After taking her potions, she was fighting the sleepiness coming over her in order get that that pudding she'd been begging for.

"My mother and father had seven children. If you wanted anything to get done in the Weasley household, bribes were undoubtedly made." Bill walked up to the counter where a witch in dark blue robes stood with a steaming kitchen behind her. There was little tables and chairs and benches all around the room, most of which were empty now that visiting hours were wrapping up. He smiled at the witch and said, "One cup of coffee and…six puddings, if you don't mind."

"And you, sir?" she asked Snape.

"A pot of English Breakfast tea and two cups, please."

As the witch promptly Apparated to some other part of the kitchen, Bill asked, "What's wrong with Earl Grey?"

"Hermione prefers English Breakfast." He raised one of his dark eyebrows high into his lanky hair. "Is that a problem, Weasley?"

"No, not at all." Bill held up his hands. "I was just curious, is all. She does grow on you, doesn't she."

"Yes, she does."

"She's always been like that. All smiles and bossiness and bookish. She's an adorable little thing."

"I suppose one could say that," Snape said shortly, never looking to Bill. "Where is that witch? If we're not back up to the room soon, Hermione will become…unpleasant. And woe to all who enter her domain when she's alone."

"Why is that? She doesn't mind the Healers when you're around."

"I think it has a lot to do with that fact that for a month, when she wasn't alone and chained to a wall, she was being tortured and raped repetitively only to soon be left alone once again."

"That makes sense."

Snape hummed his agreement.

Bill continued, "I hope you don't mind me saying this -"

"Oh, I probably will, but you will say it anyway."

"- but you truly have mellowed out and become a very good caregiver to Hermione."

Snape sniffed. "If by 'mellowed out' you mean that I finally have the weight of being a spy to the only wizard more evil than Grindelwald after living through and participating for both sides in two wars off my shoulders, I would say I agree with you. And as for Hermione, it is not as if she gave me a choice. She would lose her head every time I left the room for two days before I was forced to stay constantly by her side. She's very stubborn."

"That's one thing that hasn't changed," Bill agreed.

The witch finally appeared with a pop, handing over all the things and Snape making a very vague comment about a third wizarding war being complete since she left to fetch their food, but the woman barely noticed, only looked confused and Bill held back his laughter. While his former potions professor was calmer, he still had a tongue that delivered blows as sharp as daggers. It was admirable in a weird way.

They had hurried back up to Hermione's room, expecting to hear screaming and crashing the second the opened the hall, but all was still and calm and…normal. Not calm before the storm normal, but just everyone was going about they're normal activities.

Once they entered the room they understood why.

Sitting on the foot of the bed, laughing with Hermione and having a nice conversation was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with buzz-cut hair and dark features was a man that Bill recognized from his and Fleur's wedding.

"Viktor Krum," Bill said pleasantly.

Both people on the bed turned to the people in the doorway. Hermione was positively beaming and Viktor offered a polite smile.

"I haf come to visit Hermi-own-ninny," Viktor explained, his voice deep and accent strong. "Harry contacted me about ze…uh…kidnapping." He took the last word very slowly. "Such a terrible zing." He looked deeply troubled by it all.

"He's showing me all the letters we wrote one another." Hermione gestured to the dozens of letters stacked and littered across her bed. "He went to Grimauld to get all of the ones he sent me. It was very kind." She gave her pen-friend a big smile. "And this picture! That's me!" She held up a moving photo in an ornate frame of her and Krum in one another's arms dancing at the Yule Ball. They each turned to see the camera, smiled and waved, giggling and smiling in black and white.

"You vere so be-yu-tiv-al zat night," Viktor said with affection.

"Thank you, Viktor." She looked at the photo closely, smiling absently. "I suppose I was."

Snape looked from the clock to the bedside table where a vial sat. "Hermione, the Healer brought your Dreamless Sleep?"

"Yes."

He looked to Viktor. "Did she, by any chance, give the Healer a hard time?"

"_Da_," he confirmed, looking very amused, his dark eyes glittering. "She told him zat he could shove it…well…I believe you know how ze saying goes, yes? But if she needs her rest, I vill go. I vill visit tomorrow. I haf no Qvidditch for veeks and I stay at friend's home in London. Goodbye, Hermy-own-nee."

"Goodbye, Viktor! Travel safely! Luna says the wrackspurt are terrible at night," Hermione said, waving as Viktor left the room.

Bill wanted to smack his own forehead. Loony Lovegood was getting to Hermione, that was for sure. He made a mental note to look through the room for the Quibblers that Luna no doubt gave her.

"You're friend is gone, now open up," Snape said with a no-more-messing-around tone.

Even Hermione knew when Snape was at his limit, so she opened her mouth and he tipped back the Dreamless Sleep. She swallowed, gave a big yawn, and was out faster than a _Lumos_ countered with a _Nox._

Bill walked over to Snape and whispered, "You go home for the night. Take a proper shower, get some new clothes, do whatever work you need to be done. I'll stay here for the night."

Bill could see the hesitance in Snape's eyes, but the man nodded and walked out.

Lowering himself down into the seat that was usually Snape's, Bill Weasley closed his eyes and slowly drifted off into the dark realm of dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N. Hey everyone! Here's your next chapter! I wanted it to be longer, but it was getting lengthy and I had to cut this and chapter nine in half. I WILL, however, be posting chapter nine hopefully sometime late tomorrow.

Thank you SO SO MUCH, everyone whose been reviewing, I TRULY appreciate it! I will finish answering everyone soon (: I just have a lot going on unfortunately. I have opted to cut my education short and am now done with school, so I will be having plenty of time to write before I move for the next three months. I will be working a LOT, but thankfully I never sleep and updates will stay relatively close together, as usual.

Okay, so here's a chapter you guys have been waiting for - Hermione is out of the hospital!

* * *

Sitting on her trunk, Hermione thought over the big mess at the hospital earlier in the day.

_Hermione just sat in her bed, watching the people around her play a nice game of verbal tennis. And the ball was currently on Molly Weasley's side of the court. _

"_Pish, posh! You Healers know nothing!" she said shrilly. "Our Hermione would heal better in a homey environment, not being poked and poured into like a cauldron here in a hospital!"_

_Hermione's head Healer said calmly, "If Hermione were to be discharged - hypothetically - for health care at home, it would need to be somewhere therapeutic."_

"_And if we are being completely honest," Snape joined in, crossing his arm, "the Weasley household is not exactly what one would define as 'therapeutic'. The girl will have a panic attack before you get her past the threshold."_

"_My home has gotten significantly tamer since all my children have left, thank you very much!" Molly hissed, scowling. "I want Hermione home, where she belongs. And that is with me. I am her guardian now, after all. She's my daughter in all but blood!"_

_The Healer's eyebrows furrowed. "Guardian? I thought you said her parents were alive."_

"_They are," Snape confirmed. "But due to the…circumstances during the war, Hermione Obliviated her parents and sent them off to Australia."_

"_Then why has no one gone and returned their memories to them?"_

_Snape paused. "I have gone to see them myself. Hermione, the clever witch, cast a modified charm on them. She must have cooked it up herself, making her the only one able to restore their memories. But given her current state, it seems that the former Mr. and Mrs. Granger are destined to remain without memory of their daughter."_

"_Which is why she must come home with me!" Molly shrieked. "I've been her surrogate mother ever since she's entered the wizarding world, and I will continue that role!"_

"_I would take her to stay at Spinners End before letting her go to the Burrow," Snape said with a small sneer. "It would be too much pressure for her. Too many people coming and going, too many memories forcing their way to the surface at once, too much…Molly. I simply refuse to let her stay there." _

"_Spinners End?" Molly shouted, getting more hysterical by the second. "Are you INSANE?" _

"_I did not say I was going to take her there, only that it would be higher on the list than the Burrow by a mile."_

_Molly's face was burning the color of her hair. "Now, you listen here, Severus Snape-"_

"_Mum," a voice that they had all forgotten existed said. "Snape is right. The Burrow is too much too soon. And Spinners End is a wretched idea." Bill Weasley shrugged. "It's the truth. But if you, Hermione," he said, bringing the conversation to her, "would like to leave the hospital, I think I know where you can get some space away from everything and some fresh air. How does that sound?"_

_Hermione, glad to be finally involved in the decision-making, smiled and nodded. She had been waiting for someone to bring her into it all, because if she had just started butting herself in…well, her word didn't count for much these days, anyway. The only way her word had any merit was if someone approached her first. _

"_Shell Cottage," Bill said. "I got it in the divorce. It's on the beach, it's homey, and everyone can visit once in a while it it's okay with Hermione. Honestly, I could use the company."_

_The Healer, Molly Weasley, and Snape all looked at one another with varying degrees of agreement. Hermione smiled and said, "Take me away, Wolf."_

That was how Hermione came to be sitting on top of her trunk, staring out the window of her new bedroom. She didn't feel like unpacking, but was enjoying the tide roll in and out. The view was beautiful. She wanted to run down and roll around in the sand and dip her feet in the water, but was afraid to. Sure, it was beautiful, but Hermione never touched foot out of her cell when she was with Bellatrix, and then she never did once over the month she spent in the hospital, and from the hospital Bill had Floo'd her right into the house.

She hadn't been outside in months. The concept was nerve-racking.

"Hermione!" Bill's voice called from the bottom of the stairs. "Dinner is ready!"

With only a beat of hesitation, Hermione got up off her trunk and started walking out of her room and down the steps. She was still wearing the white linen pants the hospital gave her and one of the tanks tops in the clothes her friends all fetched for her.

The delicious smell of pizza hit her senses before she was halfway down the steps, and once it did, she hurried to the small kitchen where a box sat on the table.

"Pizza?" she said.

"Snape told me you'd been screaming for it in St. Mungo's, but they didn't have it," Bill said, taking out two plates and glasses. "So I went looking for a muggle restaurant that sold pizza and found one not too far away. Pretty cool, right?" He gave her a smile and sat down at the table, gesturing for her to join him.

Hermione took her time walking over and sitting down. According to Bill, she had been to the cottage before, and it all seemed vaguely familiar, but she didn't want to be a nuisance to him and act like she was right at home and not the guest that she was.

As she picked a slice out of the box, she said, "I wanted to thank you again for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it."

"I know you'd rather be with Snape," Bill said sincerely, "but I'm glad you agreed to stay. Ever since the divorce, the house has been very…empty."

"I'm sorry about all that, too," she said, taking a big bite of pizza. Mmm, so good, she thought with an internal smile. "It's a shame."

Bill gave a shrug. "We weren't ready for that kind of commitment. Even if I am inching closer and closer to thirty, I'm still relatively young, and her even younger than me. We were rushing, partly for the war, and it was a stupid thing to do." He took a bite of his pizza and smiled. "You know, the muggles knew what they were doing when they invented this."

"Pizza was actually invented in 1889 by a man hired by Queen Margherita and he topped it with mozzarella, basil, and tomatoes, making the colors of the Italian flag," she rattled off simply and took another bite.

Bill was wearing a strange, wistful smile.

"What?" Hermione asked, wiping her face in case it had grease on it.

"Nothing. Just…I'm glad that you're getting back to being yourself again," he said, taking in the last half of his slice in three huge bites.

"Considering I'm not too sure of what my 'normal' is, I'm not sure whether to thank you or not for that comment," Hermione said with a smirk.

"Trust me," Bill said with a smile. "It was a compliment."

…

Three days later, Bill knocked on Hermione's bedroom door lightly earlier on in the morning. He'd learned that even if he knew she was asleep, just walking in was a bad idea. Well, depends on your definition of 'bad'.

Bill was unsure if it was a new development or an old habit, but Hermione slept naked most nights. He found that out when he heard her light snoring through the slightly cracked-open bedroom door two mornings before and walked in. She was lying on her stomach, so he didn't see the especially embarrassing stuff, but he did get a lovely view of her bandage-wrapped back and perky, rosy bum. She hadn't stirred at all, she he quickly back-pedaled and knocked, pretending like he hadn't seen her nude.

Now, he knocked a few times, calling out her name softly. She called out a quiet "come in" and he entered cautiously. He let out a quiet sigh of relief to finder her sitting on the edge of her bed wearing a bathrobe. Her short hair was wet and felt in limp, uneven curls against her neck and forehead.

Bill missed her long hair and all its frizziness. Even though with it being so short, it was still wild and had a tendency to frizz, it just wasn't the same. And to think that not only had they tortured and raped her, but felt the need to hack off her hair for good measure was so degrading it made him boil with anger.

"Yes?" she said, running a brush through her hair gently. In the hospital when a nurse had brushed her hair for her, she'd screamed. When they investigated her scalp, it was swollen and filled with sores, probably from whatever rusty instrument they'd used to rip her hair off with.

"I was wondering if you wanted to take a trip to the market," Bill said.

Hermione grimaced and looked down at her bare toes. He knew she was considering the pros and cons of coming to the market, the biggest con probably being the necessity of wearing shoes. She was yet to overcome her almost unhealthy hatred for footwear. Snape had even bought her a damned pair of bunny slippers and she cringed at the very sight of them, hissing like a cat with her hackles up.

"I don't know…I haven't gone outside in so long…" she murmured.

Okay, Bill thought with a little surprise, maybe it wasn't the shoes after all. "You're afraid of going outside?" he clarified.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"I'll be right there with you," Bill promised. "Nothing will hurt you."

She remained silent.

"If you come with me, I'll let you pick out whatever junk food your little heart desires," he said.

Hermione stood from her bed, not missing a beat. "Just give me a minute to get some pants on."

Walking out, Bill smiled to himself. Bribery was a wonderful thing.

…

When Bill and Hermione arrived home, their arms full with muggle groceries, they were plenty shocked to find Harry and Draco sitting at their kitchen table. Well, Bill had been shocked. Hermione acted like she had been expecting them.

"Hello," she said sweetly, putting the bags on the table in front of them and unloading them as Bill did the same.

Draco and Harry both looked quite frustrated, Draco wearing his signature sneer as Harry just avoided looking at him. The Chosen One said to Bill, "A few of the Order came to Grimauld for breakfast and I said I'd come by to check on Hermione. Malfoy, here, was just being an obstinate prat and invited himself along."

"Oh, shut it, Potter," Draco hissed. "I wanted to see how Granger is doing."

"I'm doing quite well, thank you," Hermione said airily, humming to herself as she started putting the boxes of PopTarts in a cabinet along with her Cocoa Puffs and bags of muggle candy. "We went shopping in a muggle store. It was fun."

"Fun for Hermione, that is," Bill said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. "She kept running up and down the aisles, zigzagging around everyone while I tried to keep up. At one point she took off her shoes and dropped them in the lobster tank. We were eventually kicked out, but not before I paid for most of what we needed."

"Would either of you like a jelly bean?" she offered, holding out her massive jar of rainbow candy.

"Bertie's?" Draco inquired, raising his eyebrow at the plastic container.

"No," Bill said, grabbing a handful from the jar. "Muggle jelly beans. I rather like eating my candy without fear of coming across the flavor of ear wax." He popped a few of them into his mouth. "And so does Hermione."

"If you would like Bertie's Every Flavor Beans," Hermione said, opening up another cabinet, "Ronald brought five packs of them in the hospital." She took out one of the colorful boxes with the Bertie logo and set it on the table.

"Hermione, I also wanted to come by and give this back to you," Harry said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a very familiar-looking stick. He set it on the table.

She walked over and examined it closely, picking it up and eyeing it for more clues. "This is my wand, isn't it?" she asked.

The crinkle in Harry's brow deepened, but he nodded.

"Hmm…I wonder…" Hermione murmured before giving her wand a little flick and suddenly all the groceries started putting themselves away. She let out a little laugh. "Brilliant!"

Draco's eyes were huge. "The old Hermione Granger is certainly returning to us."

Bill gave her hair an affectionate ruffle. "Trust me, she is. She bosses me constantly."

"Well, if you do something incorrectly, what do you expect me to do?" she said defensively. "Just stand back and watch?" She harrumphed and continued packing away the food they bought, the majority of which, Harry realized, was junk food, candy, and pudding.

"Look at these!" Hermione said, excited removing another plastic jar from a bag with big, glistening eyes and holding it with the reverence of a sacred item. "Cheese Balls…" she practically sang. With a little squeal and twisted off the cap and dug her hand into the jar of little orange balls and taking out a handful and shoving it into her mouth. She crunched and crunched, her hand now covered with orange powder.

She looked at her cheese-covered hand curiously. Everyone else stared at _her_ curiously.

Hermione turned to Bill and pointed at her orange hand. "What am I supposed to do about this?"

Amused, Bill shrugged. "Wash it?"

"But…" Hermione frowned. "That's a waste of cheese."

"Then lick your fingers."

"I don't want to. You do it."

"Hermione, I'm not going to lick your fingers," Bill said with a shake of his head. That was just too…awkward. Bill had imaged licking Hermione in a lot of places in a lot of ways, but never imagined licking her fingers for the sake of getting the cheese powder off after she stuffed her face with Cheese Balls.

"Please? Snape would do it."

"No," Bill said with a laugh. "He certainly would not. I'll get you a wet cloth."

"But I don't want to waste cheese!"

"It's artificial cheese, 'Mione," Bill reasoned. "It's not _actual _cheese."

Still looking very depressed about the prospect of washing off the cheese, Hermione lifted herself onto the counter to sit and swing her legs while Bill ran a washcloth under the faucet. Her took her wrist carefully and started wiping off her hand.

"She's got you trained like a house-elf, hasn't she?" Draco said with a smirk.

"I have not! House-elves work for nothing and are abused and mistreated and should be set free!" Hermione went off.

"Yep," Harry said with a nod. "That's our Hermione coming through the fog. Hopefully she doesn't start SPEW again, that would be a right mess."

Furrowing her brow, Hermione said, "What's SPEW?"

"Nothing," all three of the men said quickly. That was one of the things that was better left forgotten.

"Is there anything else you needed, Harry?" Bill asked, seeing the hesitance in Harry's eyes, like he was about to say something he didn't necessarily want to.

"Just…there's an official meeting tonight at Grimauld. And they want Hermione to come."

"Sounds exciting!" Hermione said with a clap of her hands, grinning.

Bill paused. "Is that really such a good idea? Hermione has been through so much and there will be a lot of people…"

"That's what I said," Harry said with a shrug. "Shacklebot has final say, though."

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. "You all need to quit treating her like a child. She's the brightest witch of our age even _after _being tortured to half-insanity! That certainly speaks volumes of her…and the rest of us. She's not a child, she's a woman. And it's time you all start treating her like one! Isn't that right, Granger?"

Hermione didn't say anything, just kept looking around.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she said.

Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I just asked you if I was right or not."

"Oh, right," she said, blinking. "Granger, that's me. Yes, you're very right, Prince Charming."

Smiling broadly, Draco said, "See? She agrees."

Harry cringed a little. Draco was taking the word of a girl that had just completely forgotten her own last name and was still calling people fairytale characters.

"I would also greatly appreciate if everyone stopped talking as if I'm not standing right here," Hermione said, going into the cabinet for some taffy.

"Hermione, you have to eat real food eventually," Bill said.

"And what do you call this?" Hermione said, holding up the taffy she was unwrapping.

"I call that candy. Not real food. Sit down, I'll make you some lunch."

Hermione sat down at the table with her taffy and said, "So, how have you two been? Have you kissed yet?'

"'Mione, love, I hate to tell you this, but…I'm not Snow White," Harry said, his face burning with humiliating blush.

"Of course you are," Hermione said simply. "And Draco is the Prince. I told you this already." She rolled her eyes like they were all being silly. "If you don't kiss soon, you're never going to wake up, Harry."

"What do you _mean_?" Harry groaned, raking his hands through his messy hair. "I'm obviously awake, aren't I?"

Hermione shook her head sagely. "No, you're not."

It really got quiet, then. Her words had sounded so solemn and profound that none of them knew how to respond.

"Are you guys staying for lunch?" Bill asked eventually, changing the subject. "I'm making macaroni and cheese."

"Wonderful!" Hermione said, bouncing up from her seat and running over to the counter. "Can I pour the pasta in and stir?"

"Sure," Bill said with a smile.

"I think I'm going to head back home. Ginny said something about making lunch for me. Are you coming, Malfoy?"

"Yes, I'm coming." Draco stood up and started walking for the door with Harry, but Hermione hurried over to him and stretched up on her toes to whisper in the blonde's ear. Harry and Bill watched, bodies stiff, but the relaxed when Draco grinned crookedly and chuckled. "I'll work on it, Granger," he promised before receiving a kiss on the cheek from his ex-arch nemesis Hermione and walked out.

Bill watched as Hermione walked back over to the stove with him. She sat on the countertop and started opening the cardboard box of macaroni and cheese. "Bill?" she said.

"Yes, love?"

"Do you…do you think…" she let her words trail off and thought for a moment. "Do you think I could ever get back to the way I was? Or…the way everyone is saying I was?"

"I don't know," Bill said honestly.

She let out a long sigh. "I'm tired of everyone looking at me as if I'm three seconds away from exploding."

Taking a deep breath, Bill said, "So do I, Hermione." It's what everyone had been like when he'd been infected by Greyback. Everyone looked at him like he was a grenade with the pin yanked out, only seconds before he detonated. And he hated that everyone looked at Hermione like that. She had been their rock, their brains, their best friend. And now everyone acted like she didn't exist and that the past never happened.

Everyone was forgetting that Hermione was still the same person, the same genius, with just a few differences.

He felt like he was the only one that saw it. The way she stroked the cover of a book lovingly before she opened it, how she corrected you with that funny look on her face, that radiant smile that she gave you when she saw that you were hurting and needed some comfort.

So what if she didn't like wearing shoes and socks? Who really _did_?

So what if she talks to herself? Don't most people?

So what if she argued with walls? Walls could be infuriating, you know!

So what if she floated off dreamily sometimes when you were talking with her? We all retreated into our own little worlds when life was hard, and Hermione went through hell each and every day! Everyone was always telling her she should know things that she didn't and it had to be stressful! It was enough to drive _anyone_ mad!

Hermione poured the box of pasta into the boiling water and stirred it with a wooden spoon. "Oh, Bill, come here," he said, waving her closer to him as if she just realized something. He raised an eyebrow but obeyed, standing between her spread knees on the counter. "Your hair. It's in your face." She reached out and started situating the long strands of red hair. He hadn't even noticed that they were in his face, he hadn't gotten so used to having long hair over the years that little things like that never dawned on him.

"Thinking about hair," he said conversationally as she ran her tiny, ivory hands through his hair. It was almost like having a massage the way she did it and it felt nice to have her warm hands on his skin. He shut his eyes. "My mum said that if you wanted yours fixed that she'd even it out for you."

Hermione's hands froze in his hair and he felt them tremor slightly.

"No one's making you, Hermione," he amended, opening his eyes to find Hermione's deadpan expression. "It's just an idea. You don't have to if you don't want to."

He saw her let out a relieved sigh and she smiled a little. "Right. Um. I'd…rather not," she answered. "If that's alright. I'll just let it grow. Maybe once it's a bit longer I'll get a trim?"

"Whatever you're most comfortable with," he said simply.

She gave him her special smile. The one that made him want to reach out and touch her lips with his fingers. "Thank you, Bill. You truly are the best." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, running her hands back through his hair once more.

Right then he wanted nothing more than to put his hands in her hair and bring that gorgeous pink mouth down to his and kiss her senseless. Kiss her until she tipped over that wire of sanity that she was walking on. He didn't even care about what happened after, he just wanted to kiss her.

The Wolf was growling for more, but she ignored him easily.

He didn't kiss her though. Instead he pulled away and stirred the pasta so that it wouldn't burn.


	9. Chapter 9

"So, what exactly did Hermione whisper to you on our way out?" Harry asked Draco as they sat in the living room while the sounds of cooking and Ginny's off-pitch singing came from the kitchen.

Harry and Draco had kind of been forced to become…semi-friends. Ever since Draco had been put in the Order and then kept sticking around the hospital, they were forced to spend time with one another. And then, only two weeks before, Harry inquired where Draco had been living and he answered that he was currently living in a room above the Leaky Cauldron, Harry felt that Gryffindor obligation and invited him to stay at Grimauld. Of course, Draco had been insanely reluctant, claiming that he'd sleep in an alleyway before sharing a home with Harry Potter, but Harry said that he'd have an entire floor to himself and it would be more like being neighbors in an apartment complex.

Draco begrudgingly accepted. Then they started eating dinner and sometimes breakfast together, and sure enough Harry found things about Draco that he could actually tolerate.

One of the things that most irked Harry about Draco was the fact that if anything didn't go his way, he'd threaten to tattle to his daddy. But now that Lucius was all locked up in Azkaban and Draco wasn't a sniveling hero-worshiper, Draco was more independent and thought for himself - something he was seriously lacking while at Hogwarts.

And Draco had to admit that once he cleared all the bullshit his father had clouded his vision with, Harry wasn't half-bad either.

"That, I believe," Draco said, sitting back and propping his feet up on the ottoman, "is between Granger and I." He gave his companion a smirk from his place on the couch across the room from Harry.

Harry's spot in the living room was, as always, on the arm chair next to the fire that his godfather had always loved. "Oh, c'mon, Malfoy. I thought you and I were becoming friends?" he said tauntingly.

"Don't make me retch, Potter," Draco sneered, but Harry just grinned. "Anyway, if I were to tell you something in confidence, I would expect you to keep it to yourself. The same goes for Granger and me. My lips are sealed."

"Can you at least give me a hint?"

Draco tsk'd Harry. "That'd be cheating. But if you must know, she gave me advice."

"If her advice works, then will you tell me what she said?"

Draco considered this and said, "Alright. Sounds like a deal."

Ginny came walking into the living room while levitating a tray of sandwiches and tea. She dipped down to kiss Harry a kiss on the cheek, he gave her a soft smile, and they all three began to eat.

Draco still wasn't the biggest fan of Ginny. She was very pushy and very annoying and he couldn't seem to get her out of the house when he wanted her out. Sure, it was technically Potter's house, but Draco was his "roommate" and Ginny was not. Draco paid rent, Ginny did not.

Draco couldn't help but beg the question, if Ginny didn't pay rent and didn't live there, then why was she there even more often than Draco himself?

Drove him nutters, it did. When he came down to the living room for a book, he did not want to find Ginny cuddling up against an oblivious Harry who was trying to study for his exams so that he could take them quickly and not have to return to Hogwarts. He wanted to get started with Auror training, he'd told his blonde roommate, but Draco was realizing that when Harry was trying to work Ginny was always there cleaving to him like a baby wallaby.

It was downright sickening.

Even now as they ate their sandwiches, Ginny was wiggling her way into sitting on Harry's lap and sharing the arm chair. Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his legs, drinking his tea to try and avoid the nauseatingly embarrassing affair of Harry politely trying to gain breathing room from the very insistent redhead.

"Come on, Harry!" Ginny finally snapped when there was no way he would stop trying to get her off of him. She leaped up from the seat and glared down at him. "What has gotten into you? I thought you fancied me! During the war and the kisses and…what's changed?" She was acting very Molly Weasley, hands on hips, voice rising by about two octaves.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead, looking awkward. "I know I did things during the war that probably left you with…hopes for the both us. But you have to understand that it was a very emotional time and I didn't know right from left and…the affection I hold for you was probably grossly misinterpreted by the intensity of the moment. I just didn't want to die with regrets…but now I've found myself living with them. I shouldn't have kissed you, Gin."

Ginny's jaw was still somewhere on the floor when Draco forced himself to recover from the shock of the moment. Here he thought that his roommate was just going to let himself be pushed around by the Weasley girl until he got himself tied up in a happy marriage, doomed to father a million ginger-headed beasts.

Never did Draco Malfoy imagine Harry Potter had the balls to stand up to a girl. Lord Voldemort was one thing; Ginny Weasley was another.

"You…I…_what_?" she shrieked so loud that Draco swore he saw the coffee table vase shake. "Is there someone else? Because she only loves you for your fame, Harry, I've loved you since I was _eleven years old_!"

"I guess you could say there is someone else, Gin, but they have nothing to do with this and don't return the feelings. This is purely between you and I. And I am flattered that you've cared for me so deeply for so long." Harry picked himself up out of the chair and put a hand on her shoulder. "But I can't be with you, not romantically. I hope we can remain friends, though?"

Draco wanted to scoff. What a typically Gryffindor thing to do. _Loyalty to your girlfriend even when you were breaking up with her_? Draco thought with a wrinkle of his nose. Pathetic. And a stupid move. If Ginny was anything like her mother…

"YOU CAN FORGET IT, HARRY JAMES POTTER," Ginny screamed before marching out the front door and Apparating away.

A long silence ensued and Harry sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see all that, Draco."

The Slytherin shrugged and sipped his tea. "Honestly, I was grateful for a bit of noontime entertainment."

Harry smirked. "Has anyone told you that you are getting to be more and more like Snape every day?"

"It makes sense," Draco said wryly. "He's my godfather, isn't he?"

"It does. Although, I don't see myself getting to be anything like Sirius anytime soon," he said with a sad little smile, looking over at a picture of him and his godfather that was propped on the mantle. It had been when Sirius was in hiding and he and Harry went to the woods for a little flying with their broomsticks. They came back, all tousled looked and laughing, and Hermione had snapped the picture at precisely the right moment.

Draco stood up and patted his new friend on the shoulder. "Let's count that as a blessing. The man had a penchant for trouble."

"Always good for a laugh though," Harry grinned. "And he'd probably whack me upside the head for giving up a witch as fun and good-looking as Ginny." His smile faltered and he rubbed his temples.

"Well, he wouldn't want you in a loveless relationship, I'm sure."

"Who knows. He was Sirius blood Black."

"Fair point. But looks aren't everything, Potter. There's a lot more to a human being than just the way they look on the outside. For example, look at me."

Harry did.

"I may be all thick blonde hair and chiseled good-looks on the outside," Draco said with a charming smile. "But as you and your jolly crew of Gryffindors have proven on multiple occasions, I'm actually just bigoted, useless, foul-mouthed scum."

Snorting a laugh, Harry rolled his eyes. "You're not scum Draco. You're just an arsehole."

"And amen to that, because someone in the house needs to be. You're too soft, Potter. Today was the first time I've seen you do something for yourself and not for other people. It's a pretty wretched trait, being unselfish. But it feels good, doesn't it? Because now you can go after that witch you were saying you fancied and be happy for a change." Draco gave the green-eyed boy with the lightning scar another firm pat on the shoulder and picked up his tea to down in one shot before strolling towards the stairs.

"Just let me know when you finally invite her over! I want to be on the other end of the house when you two go at it like rabbits!" Draco called over his shoulder with a laugh as he jogged up to his floor.

And Harry smiled.

…

The Order meeting was going on, but Hermione was wandering with intrigue around Grimauld, like she'd never been there before. Every once in a while she'd walk through the dining room where everyone was talking, but only to look at someone on the wall before disappearing through a different door, all the while talking to herself and ignoring everyone's existence.

Once Hermione made her third exit from the room, Shacklebot asked, "William, how is she doing? Really? No reserves, just the truth."

"She's doing…well." Bill shrugged. "As well as anyone expects, that is. She obviously still has a few…quirks."

"'Quirks'?" Ron repeated with a scoff. "I saw her have an entire conversation with a clock. I wouldn't call that a quirk."

Bill scowled. "Don't be an imbecile, Ronald. She's healing. She'll get better."

"I don't think she will," Ron said with a shrug. "I think it's time we all prepare ourselves for the worst and come to terms with the fact she is never going to be the same and she isn't going to get better."

"She'll never be the same Hermione she was before," Bill said, glaring at his brother, "but that's not as bad a thing as everyone's making it out to be. Hermione still deserves our love and trust and support."

"How do we love a stranger, Bill?" Ron demanded, throwing up his arms. "That girl walking around the house like a damned loon is not anyone I know."

"Ronald!" Ginny said harshly. "How dare you!"

"It's the truth, Gin, whether you like it or not!"

"Even if she is a stranger, like you say, Ron," Luna piped in quietly, "shouldn't we try to get to know this new Hermione? Give her the benefit of the doubt, perhaps?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to do that when she'd rather talk to a shoe instead of talk to me?"

"If you'd been putting in _any_ effort, Mr. Weasley," a new voice to the room said snidely, "you would know that she hates shoes and puts them in the back of closets to avoid even looking at them. So I dare say she would much rather have a conversation with you than a shoe. I don't pretend to know why, of course. I find footwear a tenfold more interesting than you could ever be."

Everyone turned to the door to see the late arrival.

"Snape," Bill said with a smile. "Good to see you, mate. Care for some tea?"

"No, thank you," he said, taking a seat at the table beside McGonagall. "Last time I drank tea with Hermione in the same house, she switched the contents of the sugar bowl with salt."

Everyone tried to stifle their chuckles at that, but George was the one who couldn't help it and laughed freely. Luna even gave a little giggle. Bill was beaming at the memory of when he'd come to visit the Cottage and she pulled that little stunt. He'd spewed out the tea in shock and she had rolled on the ground with laughter. Snape hadn't the heart to yell at the poor girl, only poured out his tea and got a glass of water instead.

"Does anyone care to give me a quick update?" Snape said, folding his hands on the table, looking around for a volunteer. "I got caught up with the people working to rebuild my room after it's unfortunate perish during the battle."

"Woe to ye who fucks up Professor Snape's classroom," George said wisely with a nod.

"Indeed," Snape said dryly. "Now, what is the topic of this convers-"

Abruptly, Snape's vision went completely black.

The potions master let out a sigh. "It would be extremely inconvenient if I've spontaneously gone blind."

A giggle from behind him said, "Don't be silly, you haven't gone blind. Guess who?"

"I am going to assume - and mind you, this is a completely arbitrary venture with absolutely no supporting evidence - that it is Miss Granger who has covered my eyesight with her hands," Snape drawled.

"You would be correct in assuming so!" she said, removing her hands and giving Snape a kiss on his cheek. They all were still pretty surprised at her prompt appearance at the meeting - none of the Order members had even seen her walk in.

Hermione dropped down in a seat beside her favorite human being, Severus Snape, and held one of his hands, much to the horror of everyone in the room.

"What're we talking about?" she was the one to inquire.

"You, actually," Shacklebot answered honestly.

"I'm a terribly uninteresting topic, I'm afraid," Hermione answered. "Let's instead talk about unicorns. I hear they're much less boring."

"I agree," Draco said, getting very frustrated at the circles that everyone had been talking themselves in ever since Hermione had been discovered. It was the same things over and over again and it was starting to make his head hurt.

Hermione grinned that someone finally agreed and began, "Did you know that unicorn blood -"

"Hermione, I'm afraid that we have to talk about you," Harry interrupted gently. "It's why we're having this meeting. We're all very worried about you."

"I'm fine," she said for what felt like the millionth time. "Tell them, Bill."

"She is," the demi-wolf confirmed with a nod of his head. He raked a hand back through his long red hair and shrugged. "She's healthy and happy and safe. Aren't you, 'Mione?"

"Yes," she answered with a smiling nod.

"How are her sleeping habits?" Snape asked. "I know the hospital has taken her off of the Dreamless Sleep, but if it is needed, I could easily brew some."

"She's sleeping through the night more often now," Bill said. "Do you think you need the potion anymore, 'Mione?"

Hermione, who hated taking any type of medicine, shook her head. "I sleep like a baby, most nights." Which was true.

"And what has she been eating?" Snape asked like a concerned parent.

"She's been eating all the food groups." _With a big emphasis on the sugars and oils, _Bill thought to himself. But it didn't fool Snape, who narrowed his eyes at him. "We're working on it, alright?" Bill finally admitted. "But she's gaining some well-needed weight. Her old pants are starting to fit again. She still needs a belt, but she isn't skin and bones anymore."

"And some of my bras fit too!" she announced cheerfully.

A lot of people giggled.

"It's true," she said with a shrug. "Only the one for sports though. The other ones are still loose."

Bill was chuckling, but said, "I don't think they're interested in your bras, Hermione."

"Speak for yourself," George said teasingly.

Everyone took a moment to giggle at the turn of the meeting from Hermione's well-being to Hermione's bras. Only the Order of the Phoenix could somehow make that transition.

"If we are done discussing Hermione's undergarments," Snape said, not looking half as amused as anyone else in the room, "we should either move onto a new subject or have this meeting adjourned before Hermione feels obligated to show everyone for themselves how well her brassieres are fitting."

At this Hermione looked very confused. "But…I'm not wearing one right now. How could I possibly show everyone?"

At this, Harry, Draco, and George all busted out laughing once more and Ron groaned, throwing his head down on the table. McGonagall looked mildly shocked and so did Bill. Snape's frown just deepened.

"Do you see what I mean?" Snape said.

Shacklebot nodded, suppressing a smile. "Meeting adjourned. I'll contact you all the next time we have to meet." Everyone began to leave, most to the living room for a chat.

"Home, now?" Hermione asked eagerly, looking over at Bill. Apparently she'd had enough of exploring 12 Grimauld Place and was ready to go.

"Soon," Bill said, standing from his seat. "If it's okay, I just wanted to get a word in with George about if he could stay with you during the day this week while I'm at work."

"But he has work too, Bill!" Hermione said, looking concerned. "You can't ask him. Ask Luna!"

Luna hadn't left the room and heard this. She gave a dreamy smile and said, "I'd love to, if it's alright with Bill, of course. It is his house."

"That would be fantastic, Luna. I leave for work around seven in the morning, but Hermione doesn't usually wake up until eight."

Luna Lovegood smiled and nodded. "I'll bring over new editions of the Quibbler for you, Hermione."

"Oh, God," Snape muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I can see this all going very badly."

…

The last of the Order were walking out the front door and Flooing away, leaving Harry and Draco alone. They began picking up the glasses, drained of their Firewhiskey, and walking them to the sink to se a self-cleaning charm. The night with their friends after the meeting had been fun, especially when Hermione had bounded in and started joining the chat. Harry hated to admit it, but he never saw her smile as much in that night than she had in all their time at Hogwarts. And seeing her happy, even if she was a bit quirky, made him happy.

However, there was the female ginger who was apparently set on making his life a living Hell.

"I don't think I can live like this, Malfoy," Harry said, shaking his head as they returned to their living room to eat the last of the cookies that Molly had brought.

"I'm assuming you mean the daggers Girl Weasel was throwing at you with her eyes," Draco said, breaking a cookie in half and shoving one of the pieces onto his mouth. "Because I don't think I could live like that either."

"And she didn't say a word to me, just…glared."

"Women are like that. They'll get their point across without needing to say a single word. All I have to say is death looks like that…well. Let's just say, you better check any food you eat around her for poison." Draco smirked and put the other piece of the cookie halfway in his mouth.

They both stiffened and froze like boards.

In unison, they pointed their wands at the cookies and said the charm. The tray glowed green and they both sighed in relief. The cookies were clean, untainted by Ginny's thirst for revenge.

"I don't want to have to do that every time I eat, though," Harry said miserably, sinking further down into his chair. "I lived in that kind of fear when I was hunting Horcruxes. I shouldn't have to deal with it in my own home."

Draco shrugged. "Then don't. Just act like none of it happened. As far as you're concerned, you and she are still friends. She may not agree, but you don't deserve having to look over your shoulder ever five minutes. My advice is this. Go after that witch you have your eyes on, bring her around, and Girl Weasel will eventually get the idea. Wasn't she known for her talent at ensnaring hearts and then stomping on them in high-heeled shoes at Hogwarts?"

Dragging his hands down his face, Harry said, "Yeah, I guess."

"Then again," Draco said, thoughtfully, "she _didn't _ensnare your heart, which could be the problem. She's not exactly used to rejection, so she may just persevere until she manipulates you into loving her and then she'll rip out your heart and use it as a paperweight."

At the imagery of his still-beating heart being used to hold down Ginny's parchment while she's writing a letter to her family, Harry grimaced. "That's repulsive. And you're right. I'm bloody stuck. Even if I started bringing around someone else and started dating, she'd only target them too."

"This could all just be a mind game," Draco said, leaning forward. "She could be sending you death looks, but not planning on actually doing anything, because the real damage comes from you worrying more and more about it until you're paranoid."

"That sounds a bit…Slytherin."

Draco stuffed another cookie in his mouth. "It's what I would do."

...~oOo~...

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! 3

~So Long And Thanks For All The Fish~


	10. Chapter 10

A/N. HEY EVERYONE! So here's chapter ten! I'm so happy I have a happy handful of readers that get excited for my posts! I write rapidly, so I'll probably never leave you guys hanging for long.

Okay, so AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER, I HAVE A CHALLENGE FOR ALL OF YOU. Whoever gets the WHOLE challenge correct gets a special prize! :O

I am going to start holding a quota. I will be waiting until TEN reviews after each chapter to add another one.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling built this doll house and I am just playing with the dolls inside. (I especially like making them kiss and get married in an order that Miss Rowling did not intend, but I'm not making money off of it, so it's perfectly okay).

* * *

…~oOo~…

About a week later, Bill came home from work to find Luna and Hermione standing on the porch with a basket and some towels. Hermione was smiling at Bill's arrival and Luna was playing with the window box of flowers.

"Bill!" Hermione exclaimed. "How was work?"

"It was…boring," he said with a shrug, walking up the steps and taking off his hat. "Desk work has never been my forte. What are you and Luna up to?"

"Hermione came up with a lovely idea," Luna said with that gentle smile of hers. "We made dinner and we were waiting for you to come home to see if you'd like to eat it on the beach. It's fine weather and the tides are calm enough."

"That sounds great!" Bill said with a grin. Sounded relaxing, he thought. He needed some relaxation. Gringotts was bugging him to no end to get him back to Egypt, but he continued to decline. He needed to be home for now, he told them, using the excuse of his divorce. But in reality, he could not imagine leaving Hermione now. It just wasn't possible.

Down on the sand after having their fill of the chicken and vegetables that Luna and Hermione cooked, the two girls were down playing in the water. Luna stood with her pants rolled up to her knees, just enjoying the tide roll in and out. Hermione, who was wearing a pretty light blue cotton dress, didn't mind getting her clothes wet and sat right down in the water and was digging her toes into the wet sand. She would splash herself in the face with the salt water and bent forward to dip her head in, bringing her head back up, and shaking out her short, springy curls.

Bill watched the girl in the blue dress closely. His Wolf had always hungered for her, but now his heart was beginning to as well - and that was dangerous. Sexual attraction was one thing, emotional attraction was another. She was the first person who has made him smile in ages. And she was always around. She was definitely getting harder and harder to ignore.

Even if he wanted to begin something with her, it was impossible. He heard the way Hermione screamed and cried and begged for mercy in her sleep from down the hall. Her scars were more than skin-deep. He wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready for anything more than friendship with anyone again.

"Bill! Bill, look what I've found!"

Bill looked up from his reverie to find a short-haired witch in a soaked cotton dress running up the sand, barefoot, towards him with a big smile and her hands cupped in front of her.

Hermione dropped to her knees beside where he sat on the blanket. "Look," she said, holding out her hand. In her palm was a little sand crab with spindly legs and a shell on its back. It was wiggling and trying to burrow into her hand with no success. "Isn't it cute?"

With a chuckle, Bill answered, "I don't know if 'cute' is the word I'd use."

"It tickles when he moves." Hermione reached out for his wrist, uncurled his hand and gently dropped the tiny creature onto his large, calloused palm. "See?"

"You're right, it does."

"Luna and I also were finding these." She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a handful of pretty, multi-colored shells. "We're going to make necklaces on Monday. And I was thinking, this one here would be a good earring for you." She held up a small white and orange speckled one. "So that way you can change out the dragon tooth one every once in a while." She reached out to touch the ear lobe with the tooth in it with her fingertips. She smiled at him.

"That sounds great," he readily agreed. "Maybe we can make one for Charlie, too."

Hermione nodded and adjusted how she sat, tucking her feet under her. "Can I bury your feet in the sand?"

A strange request, Bill thought. No harm could be done, though. "Sure. Can I let our crabby friend go, though?"

Hermione nodded and took his ankles, stretching them forward so that his heels were in the sand. She even took her time to roll up his pant legs and that began digging a hole to put his feet in.

Then they both turned at the sound of Luna calling out, "Oh! Hello, boys!"

Bill and Hermione looked behind them to find two redheads coming from the dunes.

"Hello, George! Hello, Ron!" Hermione called out, waving them over. "Are you hungry! We've got plenty of food leftover from dinner! Come, come!"

The two boys came over and Ron sat down on the blanket, but George said, "I'm not all that hungry, but I think I'll go say hello to Luna if you all don't mind." He rolled up his pants to his knees like Luna and jogged down the beach to join the blonde who was still plucking up shells as they rolled in with the waves.

"It's all in the basket if you're hungry, Ron," Bill said, gesturing to the wicker carrier as Hermione continued burying Bill's feet. She was coated to the elbow in sand and her hair was still dripping, but she was one of the most beautiful sights Bill had seen in a while.

And he could tell, by the look in his brother's eyes, that Ron agreed with him.

Ron took out some of the chicken, putting a quick heating charm on it, and said, "I actually came because I wanted to talk with Hermione. If you wouldn't mind giving us a minute, Bill?"

Leaving Hermione with Ron was the last thing he wanted to do, not after all that he said about her being a stranger at the last Order meeting. But he looked…repenting. Maybe he figured out what a git he was being? Unlikely, Bill thought, but he owed his youngest brother a chance. He looked to Hermione for her opinion and she gave a smile and nod.

On more than one account, Hermione had talked about Ron - or Rumplestiltskin - with affection, someone she remembered having a great deal amount of trust and love for. So Bill understood why she'd want to give him the chance to speak as well.

"Alright," Bill said, tugging his sandy feet from the hole. "You'll just have to re-dig my feet when you're done, yeah?" He ducked down to give Hermione a kiss on her head and then decided a stroll down the strip of beach would do him some good. That way he could force himself not to eavesdrop on what Ron had to say.

…

"Hermione," Ron said slowly, putting down his plate of chicken and veggies while he talked, "I wanted to say sorry."

Hermione cocked her head to the side in confusion. "What for?" She bent her legs into a criss-cross position and propped her elbows on her knees.

"I know you probably haven't heard any of it, but…I've said some rotten and insensitive things about you." Ron bowed his head in shame. "And you deserve an apology whether you heard any of it or not."

A little frown creased Hermione's face. "Oh."

"And I've been thinking over the week about the things I've said and I've come to realize that…and I hate to say this…my sister was right. I should be getting to know you again," Ron admitted with a small grin.

Hermione liked the ginger's grin, it was lopsided and sincere and made her smile. She also found she had a great fondness for his freckles.

"And I don't know if you remember this, but…uh…you and I had a sort of…romantic-type relationship going on," he said tentatively. "And obviously I would never ask you to jump into anything, but I wanted to know if, maybe, you wanted to go to dinner with me. Not as a date or anything, but just to make it up to you for all the time that I was sort of being a pretentious prat and ignoring you."

"I would love to go to dinner with you, Ron," Hermione said with a smile. "It sounds like fun."

She could see the shock on his face. "Oh, great. Right. Um…how about tomorrow night? Anywhere you'd like."

"Hmm…" Hermione mused, biting her lip. "Are you familiar with the Muggle invention of pizza?"

…

Late that night when Ron, Luna, and George all went home, Bill and Hermione did their usual before-bedtime activities. George took his shower while Hermione climbed into her pajamas in her room, and then they both brushed their teeth side-by-side in the mirror, and Hermione read aloud to Bill from whichever book she was reading that day while Bill prepared a kettle of water before they took turns reading chapters to one another while they drank their tea.

After about three chapters, they began to talk about their day.

"So, what did Ron want to talk to you about?" Bill asked in what he hoped to be a casual tone.

"He wanted to apologize."

_What? _"What was he apologizing for?" Bill asked, completely befuddled.

"Apparently he said some rude things about me that he felt he needed to say sorry for," Hermione said, sipping her tea. "And then he asked me to dinner."

Bill's Wolf was growling. "What did you say?"

"I said yes," she said with a shrug like this was normal. "He was being very sweet about it all. He wanted to make it up to me for avoiding me. He mentioned that before my…incident…that he and I had a romantic relationship. Is that true?" Her head tilted to the side curiously.

Hesitantly, Bill nodded. "You and my brother did have feelings for each other. I'm not sure how strong the feelings were or even if any of it was official. But, yes."

"Oh," she said plainly, drinking more of her tea. She was wearing a knee-length grey t-shirt and a pair of lollipop shorts and, of course, no socks.

"Do you still have feelings for him?" Bill asked. "I mean, your memories have changed, but your feelings haven't. So is their any recognition of your old feelings for him?"

Hermione thought about this for a long time. "Not particularly. I mean, I like him plenty and I know, deep in my heart that he's one of my best friends, but I don't think I have…romantic feelings towards him. I wouldn't know how to go about them, if I did." She sighed. "Perhaps it's safer if I just remained alone for the rest of my life. But you needn't worry about that, Bill, because I'll be sure you move out soon so I won't be a burden on you forever."

Bill sighed and said, "You aren't a burden, 'Mione. I like having you here."

"But you certainly wouldn't want me here forever," she said firmly. "You'll surely start dating soon and I don't want to be in the way. Bringing a girl home only for her to find out that you've been charged with a mentally unstable patient isn't exactly a turn on, I'd imagine."

"Hermione, please, stop -"

"Why, Bill?" she asked, frowning deeply. "Why should I stop when it's the truth?"

"Any girl that couldn't handle one of my closest friends living with me isn't worth my time -"

"But what if she is worth your time? What if I'm the reason you don't end up with the girl of your dreams? I'm not stable, I'm not normal, I'm broken -"

Bill could see Hermione getting worked up, and he reached out to steady one of her shaking hands. "Hermione, love, stop. Take some deep breaths. You're perfect the way you are. Please."

Hermione was breathing fast and shaking all over. "Bill, I don't want to be a burden on you." Her eyes were filled with tears now. "I already am."

"What gives you that idea?" Bill demanded.

"An owl came today," she sniffled. "From a friend at work. I didn't mean to open it. I didn't see who it was addressed to, so I read it. He was saying about how you keep turning down the offer to go back to Egypt and I know it's because of me. But you have to go back, Bill, you said so yourself today, desk work isn't your thing and I'm wrecking your chance at doing the thing you love most." She covered her face with her hands and the tears came down faster.

Bill stood up from his seat and walked around the table to crouch down beside her. He gently took her hands away from her face, but she kept her eyes shut tight, water still leaking through and dripping down her dark eyelashes.

"'Mione," Bill whispered, "please stop, love."

"And you always call me that, you're always so kind, even though I know I'm just a hassle." Her lower lip quivered and he ached to bend forward to still it with his own, but refrained.

"Hermione. You listen to me," he said firmly. "You are not a hassle. You are not a burden. I want you here because I care about you. I could never go to Egypt while you're around because you would always be on my mind. I wouldn't be able to focus."

Her shoulder shaking, she whimpered, "See? I'm a distraction…"

"I didn't mean it like that." Bill reached up slowly to put his fingers on her cheeks and cradle her face the way he's wanted to for a long time. "Hermione, I want you to look at me."

It took her a moment, but she opened her glistening, chocolate-colored eyes.

"I like having you around," he said firmly. "I love it, actually. I need you here, just as much as you need me. We'd be terribly lonely without the other, don't you think? Now, take a deep breath and think about how Snape would act if he saw you all teary-eyed and upset."

Hermione gave a little laugh through her tears. "He'd say I was being a ridiculous child and that I was being silly."

"Damn right he would," Bill grinned. "Now, give me a smile."

Hermione forced her face into a funny half-smile half-grimace as she let out a soft sob. Bill snorted and said, "That'll work for now, I suppose." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to he forehead. "I need you, 'Mione."

"I need you too, Bill," she answered quietly and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a tight hug. He stroked her back and let her cry into his shoulder. As his hands moved over her spine, he felt deep ridges and bumps in her skin through the thing fabric.

"Um, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"How's your back healing?" He always remembered her trying to show him her back, but Snape would never let her, telling her it wasn't right to keep taking off clothes in front of people.

"It's all healed now," Hermione confirmed, her cheek rest on his shoulder. "Just scars, now. The Healers said it was done with a cursed knife, so they couldn't stop it from leaving lasting marks."

"What exactly was done with a cursed knife?" he asked hesitantly.

"You can pull up my shirt and see for yourself, if you'd like."

Very carefully and slowly, Bill took the hem of her shirt and pulled it up her back and choked when he saw what was there.

The ridges covering almost her entire back were words. Terrible, foul words all intertwined and scattered like a sickening, horrifying collage. He swore under his breath and quickly dropped the shirt back down.

Bill wished he had never seen them. He carefully untangled himself from her and stood up from the floor to pace nervously. There was a thickness in his throat he didn't know how to identify and his hands curled into tight, quaking fists.

"Which of them did that to you?" he demanded lowly.

Hermione, nonplussed at his sudden coldness, said, "The woman. Bellatrix."

Bill was immediately very jealous of Neville for getting the chance to kill the bitch. He swore again.

"Bill, are you alright?" she asked, her brow furrowing a little.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. Hair still damp, corkscrew curls framing her face, watery eyes, flushed cheeks, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, sitting in his kitchen in nothing but a t-shirt and little shorts. So…beautiful. He wanted to kiss away her tears and make her forget all the pain.

But he couldn't. Nothing could make her forget. Those evil, evil bastards made sure that her life would never be the same. They did their best to ensure that she would never live a normal life with normal adult things and a normal husband and, someday, kids. They'd ruined that for her.

"No, Hermione," he said quietly. "I'm afraid I'm not alright. I'm quite angry."

"I'm sorry -"

"Not at you," he quickly cut her off, sharper than he intended. "Never at you. I'm angry at the woman, Bellatrix, and the werewolf. Greyback. I'm angry at them for destroying your future."

Hermione sighed. "I'm angry at them, too. But…what happened has happened and there's nothing you or I can do to change it. I can try to build a future, but…I don't know how."

"I'll help you," Bill promised. "We'll help each other." _Because I need you in my life. _

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY AND WRITE FASTER!

I have a little challenge for all of you. Here's the questions to answer - 1. What do you think Hermione's first move to put herself back into society will be? 2. What do you think it was that Hermione whispered into Draco's ear those few chapters ago? 3. How do you think Ginny will be getting her revenge on Harry? 4. Who do you think the witch is that Harry fancies?

I look forward to your answers!

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	11. Chapter 11

A/N. HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER. You may have noticed that there's only six reviews for the last chapter and not ten like I said I'd wait for. But here's another chapter because, well, I'm a fucking pushover. Ask my nieces and nephews. I'm the aunt that sneaks them candy and ice cream before meals because I simply cannot say no. It's a weakness, I know.

ANOTHER QUESTION CHALLENGE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Some other magnificently wonderful goddess does. It's a pity, really, but we all bow down to her, for without her we'd never know the yumminess of Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley. Hell, even Molly kind of stirs my cauldron. Thank you, J.K. Rowling.

ENJOY!

…~oOo~…

Bill could hear the approaching laughter of his brother and Hermione as they walked up the steps of the porch. They were back home from their "date", Bill through with a scowl. It pissed him off to no end that Ron, who up until this point was ignoring Hermione's existence, was gifted the opportunity to resume their attraction to one another. He didn't care what Hermione said, they went on a date. Not a dinner between two friends, a date. And he wanted nothing more than to throw open the front door, yank Hermione in, and read his little brother the riot act like a stern father.

But he didn't. Instead, he just listened closely to their conversation. Having wolfish senses did come in handy.

"Thank you so much for taking me out, Ron," Hermione said sweetly. "I appreciate it. I need time out and so does Bill."

"No problem, 'Mione. I should be thanking you for taking me to that pizza place and then that…that…what was it called again?" Ron asked.

Bill snorted. _Bumbling buffoon, _he thought dryly.

"Arcade," Hermione said with a giggle. "I'm glad you enjoyed Muggle culture so much."

"Yeah, well…I am the son of Arthur Weasley, after all. All his Muffle-love kind of rubs off after a while."

Hermione gave a tinkling laugh. Bill got really frustrated then. Only _he_ was allowed to make her laugh like that. His brother had no claim to that laugh.

"Thank you again," Hermione said. Bill heard a small smack of lips and expected that she'd kissed him on the cheek. She did that often, to everyone. She gave McGonagall a kiss on the cheek the other day, much to the older woman's surprise. "We should go out again sometime! You can choose the place next time, though."

"Leaky Cauldron?" Ron offered. "Next weekend maybe?"

"Brilliant! They wouldn't let me have butterbeer in the hospital. I've really missed it. I'll see you next Saturday, yes? Wonderful. Goodnight, Ronald. You really are an amazing friend."

Hearing Hermione unlocking the door in the Muggle fashion, Bill resituated himself on the couch in the living room, a book in his lap, acting casual like he hadn't just listened to their conversation.

Hermione entered the living room and smiled at the sight of her roommate reading. "Oh, you're still up?" She glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight.

"Yeah," Bill said simply. "Couldn't sleep. How was your date?"

Hermione laughed and sat down on the couch next to him. "I told you, already. It wasn't a date."

"Sure it wasn't. Then why did you wear shoes, eh?"

"Because most public places require shoes." She rolled her eyes.

"You never wear shoes for me," he said with a mock-puppy pout.

She gave her silvery laugh and Bill felt his ego swell. _Take that, little brother. _Hermione kissed him on the cheek, right on his scars and said, "I'll wear shoes more often, just for you. Or, maybe just socks."

"But those are fancy shoes on your feet, 'Mione. Which means you were trying extra hard to look nice. Girls only do that for dates," Bill pointed out.

Hermione looked at her shoes. They were a pair of black ballet flats. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't know your definition of fancy, but it may be the reason why your marriage didn't last."

Bill let out a hardy laugh and put an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her into a side hug. "Always trying to change the subject."

"It wasn't a date," she said, firmer.

"Are you going to meet again?" he asked, already know the answer of course.

Her silence said it all.

"Ah-hah!" he declared triumphantly. "Hermione has got herself a boyfriend."

Her face turned very red very quickly. "I do not," she mumbled, chagrinned. "We're friends. We've been friends since our first year at Hogwarts. Saying that every boy I share a meal with is my boyfriend would make me a polygamist. That would make you, Harry, Draco, Severus, and Ron all my boyfriends."

"What a naughty girl you are, Hermione Granger," he said with a chuckle. "But in all honesty, do you feel like your spending more time with Ron will become romantic?"

The blush intensified and she shook her head.

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"I'm absolutely, without a doubt, one-hundred percent _terrified_."

"Of what?" he asked, now concerned.

"What if…oh, it's stupid, never mind."

"No, go on, Hermione."

"What if…" She took a deep breath. "What if I can't do it? A relationship, I mean. What if I freeze up? What if he tries to kiss me? Or…more?" She gave an involuntary shudder. "As far as sex is concerned…I'm afraid all the terrible memories of Greyback will come back at the worst moment and, well, I don't want to ruin something potentially great with my stupid fears."

"Hermione, have you considered…you know…emptying your memories of your time in the Malfoy basement into a pensieve and keeping them there?"

Hermione paused. "I haven't considered that."

"Just the more painful ones, that is. That way, the memories will be less potent in your head. Once they're out, you'll know you had been there, but the details will be fuzzy and hard to decipher, like a dream almost."

Hermione thought this over. "Bill, you are absolutely brilliant." She leaned over and gave him another big kiss on his cheek.

"I have an old pensieve that Fleur left behind that I emptied out into the ocean."

Hermione's eyes grew into saucers. "_You emptied her memories into the ocean_?"

Bill let out a laugh. "She deserved it. It felt fucking good, too."

"That was a terrible thing to do, William Weasley," she said firmly, wagging her slender finger at him. "But I'll forgive you because in theory…that's pretty hilarious. Now!" She hopped up from the couch. "Let's go empty my brain!"

"Please don't say it like that."

…

SEVEN WEEKS LATER

Left to lock up Gringotts, Bill sat at his desk finishing his paperwork. He seemed to always be the last to finish as of late, but that had largely to do with the newest intern there.

The intern who was currently running and sliding up and down the center on the bank in her stockings, her long-ago abandoned heels in the corner. Her joyful shouts of "woohoo!" bounced off the walls in the way that Bill knew she loved. From living with her, Bill quickly learned that one of her favorite pastimes was standing at the top of the stairs and yelling down them.

Hermione shrieked with laughter as she almost ran into the front desk of the bank.

Bill walked out of his office where he'd been watching her through the window and teased, "Do I need to put you on a leash?"

"You should try this!" she shouted as she got a running start and the began gliding over the tile floors. "_It's fuuuuuuun_!" Her words echoed, making his giggle.

"You're lucky all the goblins left," he said, giving a rueful shake of his head. "They were reluctant enough about letting you intern here after your whole robbing-and-destroying-the-bank-with-a-massive-dragon fiasco without knowing that after hours you use their workplace as an ice-skating rink."

"What they don't know won't hurt them!" she said, giving an ice-skater-like spin.

Bill laughed and picked her heels up from the corner and said, "What do you want for dinner?"

"_Puuuuddiiiiing_!" she squealed as she glided past him on the slick floors.

"We've been through this. Pudding is not dinner food," he said, trying to be stern, but failing. He was trying to hard to stifle his laughter.

"I disagree!" she said, stopping in front of him. She itched her thigh, irritated. "Can I take off these pantyhose yet? They're worse that socks. They ride up all over the place."

"Here are your options. We go out to dinner, in which case you have to keep your stockings on. Or we go home to eat, where you can take your stockings off."

Hermione mulled over her options and said, "Let's go to the Burrow! That way I can take my stockings off and your mum makes great food. And she let's me eat pudding before dinner."

He rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Sure, let's go. Although, I don't understand why my mother is such a pushover with you. Do you want to try Apparating?"

Hermione gave a shudder and shook her head hard. She still had quite the bone to pick with Apparating. He didn't know what it was, but she absolutely hated even seeing anyone Apparate.

"Alright, we'll Floo. We'll borrow Gringott's fireplace. Just let me lock up the doors."

Less than twenty minutes later, Hermione and Bill were brushing ash off of their clothing in the middle of the Weasley living room. Hermione was also hurriedly rolling down the pantyhose under her skirt and tossing them into her little beaded bag along with her shoes. Bill also took off his stupid tie and dropped it in, always loving that undetectable extension charm. It truly was handy.

"IS THAT MY BILL AND HERMIONE COMING THROUGH THE FLOO?" Molly Weasley shouted from further in the house, running in with a huge smile and gripping her oldest son and honorary daughter into a really tight, rib-breaking hug. "Have you two come for supper?" she asked eagerly, eyes sparkling.

"If we're not imposing," Hermione said with a smile.

"You could NEVER impose, dear!" Molly gave her another hug. "It's the perfect night, too! Harry just Floo'd to ask if he and Draco could come! George said he was coming because he had big news as well! This is going to be a great night! ARTHUR!" she abruptly screamed. "ARTHUR, COME DOWNSTAIRS! OUR CHILDREN ARE HOME!"

Hermione beamed. She loved that Molly considered Hermione her own daughter.

While Molly ran out of the room, still calling out for her husband to hurry and come down, Bill turned to Hermione and affectionately pushing a curl behind her hair, exposing her dangly shell earrings that she made herself.

She smiled softly. "Are you alright? You have that far-off look in your eyes again."

Shaking his head, Bill dropped his hand and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking." He sighed. "Always thinking."

"RONALD WEASLEY, COME DOWN FROM THAT ROOM OF YOURS! YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND BROTHER ARE HERE!"

Bill tried not to wince. Yes, despite all of Hermione's initial denying of anything romantic between the two, Ron and Hermione were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend. And it drove Bill mad.

The sound of heavy footsteps came down the steps and Hermione walked toward the stairs to meet Ron halfway. He stopped at the last step and bent down to give his girlfriend a chaste kiss.

"Hello, 'Mione," Ron said with a smile. "Staying for dinner?" He took her hand in his.

"Of course," she said, giving his hand a squeeze and they began walking toward the dining room.

Left alone in the living room, Bill took a moment to pity himself. Charlie was gayer than a Mardi Gras parade and had a really nice Romanian boyfriend. Percy was now engaged to a prudish girl, but a girl nonetheless, named Audrey. George had somehow fallen into a very strange, but adorable relationship with none other than Luna Lovegood. Ginny was currently trying to weasel her way into Draco Malfoy's pants. And Ron was currently dating the woman that Bill was pretty sure he was madly in love with.

Talk about loneliness.

Thinking about all cute little kisses and nuzzles from Ron and Hermione over the course of dinner made him consider stepping back into the Floo and going back to the Cottage. But he took a deep breath and knew he would walk into the dining room, because that's what Gryffindors did. They sucked it the hell up and dealt with things.

"I know that look," a voice said. Bill turned to find Harry walking towards the liquor cabinet in the living room. "It's the look of someone in love with someone they can't have."

Godsmacked at how perceptive the Boy Who Lived was, he said, "How did you know?"

Harry gave a sad smile. "I see it every day in the mirror."

"Girl troubles?" Bill guessed.

"Something like that," Harry grumbled, opening the cabinet with a sigh. "Join me for a glass of Firewhiskey. We're both going to need it if we're going to stomach an entire night of all our friends and family caught in the throes of love while we sit lonely on the sidelines."

Maybe Bill wasn't as alone as he thought. He nodded and walked over to Harry, gesturing her Harry to follow him with the bottle. Bill ducked into the kitchen when Molly was missing and grabbed two glasses before walking with Harry to the back porch.

They both sat on the stairs of the porch, looking out at the garden and pouring each other a healthy glass of Firewhiskey.

"So, who is it that's got your heart in a twist? Is it my little sister?" Bill inquired.

"No, I actually made it clear to her that I didn't want to be anything other than friends with her about a month ago. And for the last two weeks, she's been obnoxiously flirting with my roommate. So she's not very high on my list of favorite people right about now," Harry said dryly. Bill had no clue when this kid became such a pessimist, but it didn't look good on him.

"So, who's the witch?"

Harry chuckled and took a long pull of his drink, cringing at the burn. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You'd be surprised at what I believe and don't," Bill said, draining his glass in one swig and then pouring himself some more. He needed to drink himself to the point where he didn't care. He needed to drink himself numb. It was just the obligation of a heartsick man with no chance at a cure.

"It must be hard," Harry observed. "Being so in love with a girl only to have her stolen away by your youngest brother."

So Harry Potter was a tenfold more observant than Bill thought. "How'd you know?"

"Hermione used to be the one who watched each and every exchanged look in the room," Harry explained. "I just picked up the torch after her… injury. Her observatory skills saved me and Ron's arses on more than one occasion." He looked up at the older redhead. "So, tell me. How does it feel?"

"Like someone's taking a sledgehammer to my chest."

"Ouch."

"And then using a butter knife to cut open my chest cavity."

"Gross."

"And then pulling out my still-beating heart only to bake it into a pie and serve it to me for dessert."

"Please stop." Harry grimaced. "That's so repulsive."

Bill chuckled. "You asked. Anyway, that's just an exaggeration. Hermione has been known to throw out absurd analogies lately and its beginning to rub off." He scratched the back of his head. "She's so special. I don't think Ron realizes that."

"Ron is my best friend," Harry said. "And so is Hermione. And honestly, I don't think they're a good match. Ron is too…Ron. And Hermione is too…Hermione."

"Ever the wordsmith, Potter."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," Bill admitted, twisting the glass in his hands and staring down at the amber fluid. "But that doesn't change the fact that they're together."

"Yeah…I know that feeling…"

"Please, for the love of Merlin, just tell me who this girl is that's got you in such a pit of despair," Bill said. "She's obviously gotta be _the one _to make you act like this. You are the messiah of the wizarding world, it should be so easy for you."

"This isn't the type of person that would fall for my fame."

"That doesn't mean you don't have a really cool scar. Birds dig scars…well, _some _scars." Bill rubbed the side of his marred face.

"They wouldn't like the scar either."

"Okay, that's it. Either this chick is a statue or a bloke."

Harry's face got really, really red, the blush covering him from hairline to the base of his neck.

The realization came to Bill like a wave. "Bloody hell. It's a bloke, isn't it?"

Barely noticeable, Harry nodded.

"_Why didn't you say anything earlier_?" Bill demanded, throwing his arms up. "I could have set you up with Charlie! Then at least one of us would be happy!"

Harry, bewildered said, "Charlie's gay?"

"Yes. But don't breathe a word to anyone. He would kill me."

"I had no clue…"

Bill snorted. "I've known since his first year at Hogwarts. Gertrude Wimble kissed him and he ran away screaming like a girl to brush his teeth. Anyway…who's the bloke?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Harry mumbled miserably.

"I'd put money on it being your Prince Charming, Snow White." Bill winked.

"I guess it was kind of obvious."

"Not really. Hermione's just a perceptive little bugger. Her instincts are better than most people's educated conclusions."

"Yeah." Harry scratched his head, making his raven hair stick up even more - if that was possible. "Freaked me out when she said that. I hadn't told anyone I like boys…I hadn't even been sure until I kissed Ginny during the battle. And then there Hermione was, lying in a hospital bed, half-insane, saying that I was princess and needed to kiss my prince. No one took her seriously of course, but I knew what she meant and the fact that she knew scared the hell out of me. I'm a coward."

"You killed Lord Voldemort." Bill stood up from the step and offered Harry a hand to help him up. "You're definitely not the coward here. I've been living in the same house as the girl I'm in love with for nearly two months and didn't make a move in time. _I'm_ the coward."

…

Dinner was Bill's definition of Hell. Ron and Hermione's hands were clasped together on top of the table, Ginny was leaning into Draco and twirling one of his blonde locks around his finger while he looked bored, acting as if she didn't exist, and George bounded in looking freshly-shagged and beaming.

He hated his brothers and sister right now.

While Luna did not accompany George, he still had the smile of someone in love and happy. Which Bill was honestly happy about since Fred was gone. The thought of his younger brother still brought a pain in his chest that would never heal and made his eyes burn, but Bill took a deep breath and knew that Fred would want him to not dwell on it so much.

But Bill knew that the loss of a younger sibling, someone he taught to ride a broomstick and fooled into de-gnoming the garden when they were small was something that a lot of people couldn't understand. Losing Fred was different for everyone. For Ron and Ginny, it was losing an older brother. For Charlie and Percy, it was losing their younger brother. For George, it was losing his other half, and for his mother and father it was losing their son. But for Bill, he felt the loss of a younger brother and a son at the same time.

None of them would be the same after that.

But George was learning to move on. He had been the first to say, in the middle of everyone's sulking, "HE WOULD KILL ALL OF YOU IF HE KNEW YOU WEREN'T CELEBRATING HIS LIFE RIGHT NOW. I'M GOING TO GO GET SOME FUCKING FIREWORKS AND YOU'RE ALL GOING TO WATCH THEM AND ENJOY THEM, DAMMIT." And then he'd marched out of the room to collect some of the dangerous fun he and his twin had been famous for.

"So, I have an announcement, everyone!" George said, clapping his hands together with a big smile.

Everyone looked to him eagerly.

"Luna and I have decided to get married!"

Everyone's eyes got huge.

Then Molly screamed in delight and scooped her son into a hug. "Oh Merlin! This is fantastic! It's just what our family needs, a wedding!"

"Isn't it a bit soon for marriage?" Ginny observed, raising an eyebrow. "They're only been together for a month."

"WHO CARES!" Molly boomed joyfully. "THEY COULD HAVE STARTED DATING YESTERDAY AND I'D BE HAPPY THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED! WHERE'S YOUR WEDDING SPIRIT, GINERVA?"

Everyone started giving their congratulations and hugs. Bill went over to give his brother a hard hug and whisper in his ear, "She's pregnant, isn't she?"

"Yep," George said with a silly sort of nervous smile.

"Thought so." Bill pulled away and returned to his seat, shaking his head. Weasleys were known for their fertility and he knew from the moment he heard that him and Luna had shagged after their first date that it was only a matter of time before she was bigger than a house, carrying a pair of Weasley spawn. Because knowing George, it would end up being twins without a doubt.

Bill looked across the table where Hermione was laughing at something George - who sat down on the opposite side of Ron - said. She looked so…happy. The haunted look in her eyes had all but disappeared since the night they removed her more painful memories. He knew the reason the doctors hadn't suggested it, her memories already being so muddled, they didn't want to screw them up some more. But Bill couldn't stand seeing her look so broken and with that constant sadness lingering behind her eyes.

And now she was happy.

But with someone else.

He felt that butter knife delve deeper between his ribs.

"Hermione, dear, would you like some pudding?" Molly said sweetly, coming out of the kitchen levitating all of the meal and one bowl of dessert for the notorious sweet tooth at the table.

"Mum!" Bill groaned. "Do you really have to encourage her?"

"Don't be mean to your mum, Bill!" Hermione said, accepting the bowl of pudding with a smile. "She's just being nice!"

"That's right, Hermione," Molly confirmed with a nod, reaching out to whack her oldest son on the back of the head with he towel. "Bill, don't be daft!"

Bill sighed and gave up. There would be no winning. These were Weasley women he was dealing with.

The rest of dinner was loud and fun, as it usually was, and after dinner Hermione fell into a food coma on the couch, drifting to sleep as the men around her shared a glass of Firewhiskey. She slept right through the chatter and Bill bent down to lift her up, kissing her cheek in the process. He walked to the kitchen where he knew his mother and sister were cleaning up after dinner.

"I think we'll be heaving home," Bill whispered to the woman, nodding at the sleeping girl in his arms.

"You can stay the night!" Molly said quickly. "You don't have work tomorrow, right? And you can't Floo when you're carrying her like that and you know how she get's about Apparating. And it'd be a shame to wake her up."

Bill was hesitant, but said, "Alright. Sounds good. What room should I put Hermione down in?"

"You can put her in you and Charlie's old one. You can take the twins' room."

Bill nodded and starting walking up the stairs, cradling Hermione, careful not to jostle her away.

…

Harry and Draco got back home around two in the morning, the both of them pretty tipsy. Harry more so than Draco, considering the dark-haired boy had been drinking before dinner even started.

"Come on, mate," Draco chuckled, supporting his roommate's weight as they stepped out of the fireplace. "Let's get you to bed."

Harry groaned. "I dun' wanna."

"Well, too damn bad, 'cause you're gonna have to," Draco said, still laughing. "I need my beauty sleep and I can't stay up worrying about where you're eventually gonna pass out. With your luck, it will be on top of an active volcano."

"Don't be silly," Harry slurred while being led to the stairs. "I got rid of the active volcano in Grimauld _months_ ago."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"No, really. There was a book in the libr'ry, that when you opened it, a volcano grew out of it with lava splashin' out. It was hot."

"I bet it was," Draco said indulgently, helping Harry take each step slowly. "Easy, there. Don't trip."

"_Awwww_," Harry said, laughing. "You _care_."

"No, I don't. I just know that if your clumsy arse starts trips then I'm going down with you. Your grip is like iron," Draco said dryly, gesturing to the hands clasped in his shirt. "Come up, we're almost to the first landing. We'll dump you in one of those bedrooms."

"I'd rather stay in yours," Harry stage-whispered drunkenly, giving an exaggerated wink.

Draco let out a loud bark of a laugh. "I don't put out to drunken idiots," he said sarcastically. "Sober up and we'll talk."

"You're kidding."

"Damn straight, I am. Now get your ass into that bedroom and try your hardest not to puke on the sheets." Draco straightened Harry so that he faced a bedroom door and pushed him through it. "I'm not tucking you in and I'm not cuddling you. So, march."

Harry chuckled and obeyed, stopping around only to give Draco a big wet kiss on his cheek.

"You're lucky I'm drunk, Potter," Draco teased. "Because under normal circumstances, that would have earned you a hex."

Harry shrugged. "Under normal circumstances, that would have never happened." And he shut the door to the room.

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

New questions: 1. What color would you imagine Luna's is wedding dress? 2. Will Draco let Ginny in his pants? 3. Team Ron or Team Bill? 4. And (a repeat from the last set of questions in case you didn't answer last time) what do you think it was that Hermione whispered in Draco's ear?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	12. Chapter 12

A/N. HELLO! ANOTHER CHAPTER! This chapter started off as a bunch of really tiny chapters that I shoved into one, so there are a lot of scene breaks. It's easy to read though, I promise.

And just so you all know, I haven't the foggiest of when I'm going to end this. It could end up being pretty long, but seeing as I update so rapidly, it shouldn't be a problem. It probably won't max out 25, but that could be a lie haha (:

ALSO, if you like long fanficitons and rapid updating, you should read my other story on here called "Teddy Lupin: The Wolf, the Witch, and the Wraith." AND HOPEFULLY SOON, I will be posting a Hermione/Remus time turner fic. I don't know about you, but I just love time turner fictions (: And Hermione and Remus getting it on, but that's irrelevent.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing...seriously, nothing. Not Harry Potter, not the house I live in. It's sad, but true. But I'm in college, so I guess that's alright.

…~oOo~…

Opening her eyes, Hermione expected to see the robin eggs blue ceiling, made a periwinkle by the rising sun through her open window.

Instead, she awoke in darkness. It was especially cool and she could feel that she was wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

_No, no, no_, her mind whimpered as she shook her head. _This can't be happening again_. _Bill said he'd protect me, he wouldn't let me taken again. _

Unless, she realize with roaring horror, he was a victim to.

Hearing a shuffle in the corner and seeing a shadow flash, Hermione let out a bloodcurdling scream.

…

The heart wrenching screams pierced through his dreams and Bill wrenched upward, hearing his name being frantically screeched.

"_BILL! BILL!" _More screaming.

Bill had never moved so fast in his life, shooting out of his brother's old bed and sprinting towards Hermione's yells. He threw the door open to find Hermione curled up in a ball on the floor, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably and she yelled desperately for Bill.

"Hemione!" he said loudly, rushing over and ducking down next to her. "Hermione, I'm here! I'm right here! What's wrong?"

Her screaming ceased and she looked up with haunted look in her wide, red-rimmed eyes. She threw herself into his bare chest and held on, her nails digging into her hard, broad shoulders. She sobbed into his skin, holding herself as close to him as humanly possible.

"I-I-I," she stuttered. "I…I thought…I didn't know where I was…All my clothes…were g-g-gone," she bawled.

The realization came to him and he wanted to smack himself. She had fallen asleep and probably expected to wake up in her room at the Cottage, not some strange, pitch-black room she didn't know without any clothes on. It was probably fucking terrifying.

"You're okay, no one's hurt you." Bill ran his hand down her back, his fingers passing over the deep indentations of scars and whispering reassurances in her ear. "You're safe."

"Bill…" she whispered. Not a question, just a statement.

"I'm here, love," he promised, stroking her hair.

Naturally, with all the screaming, the entire Weasley family was out of bed and standing in the hall, all straining to look in. Molly was pushing her way through the mass of her children and calling out, "Is she alright, Bill? Is everything okay?"

Bill said, "She's fine. Just had a bit of a fright." He looked over his shoulder to see that almost everyone had crashed in the spare rooms after their dinner the night before, Luna having apparently shown up, and Ron was leaning against the doorframe with an unreadable expression.

"I knew it was a bad idea for Ginny to undress you," Bill muttered to himself, shaking his head at his own stupidity, still running his hands over her comfortingly as she sobbing wound down. "She thought you would be more comfortable."

"It's okay," Hermione murmured, still quivering all over. "I'm better now."

"Everyone! Back off to bed!" Molly Weasley announced to her clan of gingers. "You've still got two hours before breakfast!"

They're footsteps echoed through the house as everyone returned to their bedrooms. Ron lingered behind.

"Do you need anything, 'Mione?" Ron asked, sounding concerned.

Hermione shook her head and said, "No, thank you. I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's not a problem," Ron said. "Just get some rest. You too, Bill." And he turned and walked away.

Her small, pale hands slid away from his body and covered her face in shame. "They probably all think I'm mental. A freak."

Bill shook his head firmly. "Never. They all love you and understand."

"Bill…" she said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Could I, perhaps, ask you a favor?"

"Anything, love," he vowed automatically.

"Would you mind…sleeping here with me until breakfast," she said softly. "I'll understand if you don't want to."

Bill hesitated. He would do anything for Hermione, but being that close to the girl he cared so deeply for while she was asleep would make some vivid dreams. And it would probably just be torture, wondering if someday she and Ron would sleep and wake up next to each other every day.

But he couldn't say no to such a heartbroken face. She was staring up at him, biting her lip, her chocolate eyes watery and her jaw shivering.

"Of course," he said.

She gave him the wonderful smile, the one that always made him have hope. Hope for himself, for her, for their lives - whether they be separate or apart.

Hermione crawled back into the bed and Bill saw that there wasn't much room on Charlie's old, regular twin-sized bed. She rolled on her side, inching close to the edge to offer him as much room as possible. Bill grinned and slid in next to her, offering an open arm that she wiggled under and pressed her body against his. His flannel pants felt soft against her leg and his bare chest was harm against hers.

Hermione tucked her face into his neck and closed her eyes, feeling safe from the bubble of protection Bill's presence always provided. She fell asleep almost immediately. Bill however, focused on her slow breaths against his neck and rise and fall of her chest for a long while before eventually drifting off into his own dreams.

…

They woke up two-and-a-half hours later and Bill had to lightly shake Hermione awake, for two reasons. One, breakfast was ready. Two, if he sat there much longer with her cuddling into his chest, he was very possibly going to snap like a taut wire and run as fast as he fucking could back to Egypt. Or ravish her. Either one.

Hermione was in a deep sleep, so just shaking her didn't do much. "Hermione," he whispered close to her ear. "Hermione, love, wake up. Breakfast is ready."

She responded by snuggling up closer and holding onto him harder. He made a snap decision. If she wasn't going to wake up on her own, than food would. He gently untangled himself from her sleeping figure and went to Charlie's dresser of clothes from his teenage years. He found a long t-shirt with a Chinese Firebolt on it - he'd always been such a dragon nerd.

Bill carefully propped Hermione up - who was scowling in her sleep from the movement - and slipped the shirt over her head before bending down and looping her arms around her waist, picking her up like a limp doll. She mumbled protest, but her situated her legs to the sides of his hips and pulled her up chest to chest, maneuvering he arms around his neck. Her head fell sleepily against in shoulder and she nuzzled into his long hair, one hand wrapping around a handful of it.

He started walking her out of the room and towards the stairs, the smell of breakfast getting stronger and stronger, and he could tell the she was slowly rousing. Her hands were now clasped behind his neck together, her thighs squeezing his waist to hold on as he moved, and the soft mewling and murmuring had stopped. Now she was just enjoying the ride, he thought with a smile.

The dining room was hopping and when Bill and Hermione made their entrance, everyone gave a loud hello and some laughed at seeing Hermione still half-slumbering. Her set her gently down in a chair, her eyes now open, albeit droopy. She slumped in the chair and Bill slid in beside her to hopefully prop her up with his shoulder so that she didn't fall over.

Ron looked jealous, Bill thought with a hidden grin. Good. Let him be jealous. _Hermione probably likes me a lot more than him anyway_.

Hermione leaned into Bill and whispered in his ear, "May I please have some tea?" Her voice was hoarse from sleep and the family was really loud so she figured the best way to get his attention was quietly and close. Bill nodded and promptly summoned a tea cup from the kitchen and the tea kettle.

Sipping at her tea, she looked around the table. Ginny, George, Ron, Luna, Arthur, Molly, Bill, and her. Luna was looking dreamy, but happy with a pretty engagement ring on her finger. George was sitting next to her, an arm around her waist as he occasionally stroked the length of her blonde hair.

Luna, Molly, George, and Arthur were all discussing the impending nuptials and trying to agree on a day.

"Soon, Mum," George said. "We don't want a long engagement." Luna nodded her head in agreement.

"But I need TIME," Molly exclaimed frantically. "Bill and Fleur's wedding was wonderful and do you know why?"

"Because that's usually what happens when two people aren't meant for each other?" George guessed. "Brilliant wedding, shitty marriage?"

Bill growled threateningly.

"NO, GEORGE," Molly yelled. "Because I took TIME to make it that wonderful!"

"I don't give a rat's ass what it took to make Bill and Fleur's wedding all fancy," George said blandly with a shrug. "She was French, you're barmy. Of course it was going to turn out well, you both are bloody perfectionists. But we're getting married at the end of next month whether you bloody well like it or not."

Everyone stared at him like he must be suicidal. Talking to Molly Weasley like that? Unheard. Only one whose survived talking so disrespectfully to her was Snape. And he survived getting his throat torn out by a fucking snake, so it was no surprise he could handle the beating he had coming when he talked back at Mrs. Weasley.

But George, however, they all expected was in for it.

Bracing for the screams, they never came. Instead, Molly started crying quietly and scurrying to the kitchen.

"Merlin's pants, you broke our mother!" Ron said, dumbfounded.

"Oh, George," Luna said, shaking her head sadly. "You best go apologize."

"Listen to your fiancée, George Fabian Weasley," Arthur said, giving his son a firm look.

"Way to make Mum cry, brother," Bill grumbled, glowering at the ear-less wonder. "I haven't managed that since I was a Second Year."

"You're such a prick, George," Ginny growled. "Say sorry to Mum! Now!"

"JEEZ, I'm going, I'm going!" George said, standing up and slinking reluctantly towards the kitchen.

Molly and George were gone for a while and those left at the table were done long before they returned. It was a quiet breakfast while Molly and her son were having a nice long chat in the other room, Hermione quietly requested, "Ron? May I have a moment outside with you?"

Ron immediately nodded and two were off as well.

Leaving Bill, Luna, Ginny, and Arthur.

"Well," Arthur Weasley observed, "this is quite awkward, isn't it?"

…

"What's up, 'Mione?" Ron asked once they were in the garden, strolling slowly.

"I wanted to talk to you about this morning," she said.

"Which 'morning'?" Ron asked with a small smirk, scratching the back of his head. "As far as I'm concerned, there were two of 'em."

"The morning where I woke up screaming bloody murder."

"Oh, yes. That one."

"You have to realize…that sort of stuff," Hermione said quietly. "It's not exactly a rare occurrence for me. Bill will tell you, it happens often." Her cheeks were decorated with a light flush of embarrassment. "It's downright pathetic, yeah, but -"

"It's not pathetic," he quickly amended. "You're just…sick, Hermione. You'll get better."

"But that's just the thing, Ronald," she said, turning to face him. They both stopped walking and faced one another. "I may be sick, but I'll be sick for the rest of my life. 'Getting better' isn't going to happen for me. Look how long it's been since I came home, about three months, and I'm relatively the same."

"Oh, trust me," he said with a humorless snort. "You're a lot better than when we first found you."

"Be that as it may… I just…" She broke off and looked into the distance, trying to find words. "If our relationship progressed and we were to become closer, living together even, you don't realize that there will always be nights where I wake up screaming. It's a part of my life now. I'll scream. I'll throw things. I bit Bill once. And I…" The tears started streaming down her face. "I don't think I can handle you looking at me the way you looked at me this morning every time I have a fit."

Ron froze, realizing what was happening. "'Mione -"

She held up a hand. "It's not your fault. You can't help it. But it breaks my heart to see you look at me with such unrecognizing eyes, like you didn't know me, and it wasn't happening to me. Or the slight horror. Or the look that says I'm a freak."

He cringed. "I didn't mean to look like that, Hermione, I swear -"

"I know that, Ronald. You can't help it. I can't help it. It's out of our control. Which is why, you and I…we can't be together. Not romantically. A friendship could work, yes, but nothing more," she said softly.

They both were silent for a long time.

"Just, tell me one thing," Ron said hoarsely. "Does this have anything to do with Bill?"

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. "Not in the way I think you mean. No. Bill doesn't have feelings for me, nor do I for him."

Ron looked doubtful. "Are you sure about that? Because I don't think you're certain, I can see it in your eyes."

"Even if I did harbor any amount of attraction towards Bill," Hermione articulated carefully, "I could never pursue it. Nor could he. This, between us, was only proof that I can't be with _anyone_. No one. It's just how it's got to be. No one can handle my erratic fits or my sickness."

"Except Bill you mean," he said dryly.

"Quit making this about Bill!" Hermione snapped.

"How can I not, Hermione?" he demanded. "You're sewn to his hip! I mean, Merlin's socks, you two are so bloody in sync, it's fucking scary. When you woke up this morning, who did you start calling out for? Not me, not Harry, but _Bill_. You may not realize it now, but you're in love with him." He said each word sharply. "And I'm not going to stick around to watch to girl I've been pining for since Fourth Year fall for my brother."

He started marching away, and not towards the Burrow.

"Where are you going?" Hermione called after him.

"I'll know when I get there!" he shouted back and with a flick of his wand, disapparated away.

The sickening pop of Apparition hit Hermione hard and she covered her ears. A nausea rocked through her hard at witnessing his disappearing. It made her sick and she felt the oncoming panic. The fast breathing and sweaty palms. The shaking.

"Bill!" she called out, hurrying into the house and finding that having heard his name being called, he was already halfway to the door. He was panting lightly from moving so fast and looked concerned.

"What's the matter? What did Ron do?" he asked quickly, but Hermione just hugged him. He felt the her sweaty palms into his back and felt the trembling. He put the pieces together. "Did Ron disapparate?" he asked quietly. Hermione nodded. "Stupid bastard."

"It's not his fault," she whispered as the panic began to ebb away. "He probably just forgot."

"What were you guys talking about that he had to leave so fast?"

"I broke up with him."

Shock stiffened Bill's body. "Why?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'll explain it all to you later. Right now I'm just…really tired."

"Then let's go home, love."

…

"HARRY POTTER, DRAG YOUR LAZY ARSE OUT OF BED BEFORE I FLIP YOUR MATTRESS AND CHARM YOUR HAIR GREEN," the bellows shook the room.

Harry snapped upward in the bed, stunned senseless and half-blind. He felt around his bedside table for his glasses, but found no bedside table. Upon further investigation, he wasn't in his bedroom, but in one of the guest rooms. He found his glasses lounging on his pillow and slipped them on.

"THAT'S IT," the voice from outside the door yelled. "I'M COMING IN AND I CAN'T PROMISE TO STOP AT JUST CHANGING YOUR HAIR."

Realizing that he was rumpled and sporting a morning hard-on, Harry quickly called out, "I'M AWAKE! I'M AWAKE!"

The door still opened though and Harry tried to situate so that his erection wasn't obvious. He painfully crossed his legs and feigned casualty.

"It's fucking two in the afternoon, you lazy prick," Draco Malfoy informed him, not really sounding angry about it at all. He just wanted to give Harry a hard time.

Harry felt the raging hangover hit him in full force and groaned.

"Yes, well, that headache is what you get for being a shit-faced arsehole last night," Malfoy said, pitching clothing right into Harry's half-dazed face. "You have people you need to apologize to. I think you may have grabbed Luna soon-to-be-Weasley's ass last night."

"I did not!" Harry's face got super red. "Wait…did I?"

"Not the Luna part, no. Don't you fucking remember?" Draco demanded, getting frustrated.

Harry shook his head.

"Anything?" Malfoy clarified, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. What was Potter playing at? "No clue what you did last night?"

Harry shook his head, look clueless. "I haven't the foggiest."

"Well…" Draco said, crossing his arms. "You're probably better off that way anyway. Who knew the Chosen One would be a bloody prat when he got bladdered. Get dressed. Andromeda Floo'd - she's coming by with Teddy soon." And Draco strut out.

…

Nearly a week after she broke it off with Ron, Hermione and Bill came home from Gringotts to find a package on the porch. They both stopped and stared down at it. It was about the size of a shoebox and wrapped in brown paper and had twine in a simple bow on top, an envelope tucked under the string.

"Were we expecting anything?" Hermione inquired.

"I don't think so." Bill drew his wand and pointed it at the box. Call him paranoid, but they'd been through too damn much not to approach something this strange with caution. "Carefully take the envelope and see what it says."

Hermione opened the envelope to find a parchment inside. "Oh! It's from the lovebirds. 'Dear Hermione, please don't hex this box. Inside is something you'd probably want to keep intact. Happy Birthday. Love, George and Luna. PS. You're invitation is also in the envelope.'" She pulled out the second piece of paper and found a pretty ivory wedding invitation. "To Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Bill Weasley," she read aloud, handing him the invitation.

"I didn't know today was your birthday," Bill said, looking confused.

"Frankly, neither did I." Hermione shrugged and bent down to lift the box. She shook it lightly and suddenly there was a light ticking inside. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Over and over. "Um…Bill…I don't know what your brother sent me, but it's…ticking," she reported nervously.

"Oh, shit," Bill said, knowing Bill's track record with explosives. He took the box from her quickly and ran it to the front of their law, setting it down on the dunes. Jogging back, he made it to the porch just in time to see Hermione's present.

The box erupted, colorful sparks exploding from the confines of the box and into the sky in a dazzling fireworks display. Written in the sky with beautiful purple sparks were the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE. And then with little firework fairies flying all around, one even swooping down towards Hermione and spinning around her head, crackling as the sparking wings flapped. Hermione giggled and reached out to touch the fairy, but just as she did, it burnt out and fell to ash at her feet. The fireworks lasted for a good five minutes, starring trolls bashing on the letters of the birthday message which was flashing Gryffindor colors towards the end. Then it all burnt out and fell down.

Hermione was applauding enthusiastically and cheering. Bill laughed and started clapping as well. He had to admit, his brother really did outdo himself sometimes.

Then, they didn't realize this initially, but as the fireworks fizzled out, falling out of the sky was something else. It dropped where the box used to be and Hermione ran to the dunes to pick it up. It was a book. It was a copy of Hogwarts: A History, but she already had that book, everyone knew that.

The inside cover had an inscription.

_Hermione. You've made history. Turn to page 1034. Love always, Harry._

She did as the inscription said and found that this must have been a brand new edition of the book, probably not even on shelves yet. Because on page 1034, her name and her feats were immortalized on the page. One more note was found like a bookmark between the page. "_Thought you might enjoy reading about yourself for a change. Maybe it'll even fill in a few blanks for you._" She walked back to the Cottage with a big smile on her face, staring down at the book.

Bill looked at it over her shoulder as they walked in and smiled as well. "That's great, 'Mione." He kissed the top of her head and started kicking off his shoes. She'd taken off her shoes before they even got to Gringotts, much to the goblins' annoyance.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Bill asked her. "Anything you want, it is your birthday after all. If you want cookies and ice cream, then by Merlin, we'll have bloody cookies and ice cream for dinner. If you want Italian food, I know a bloke in Rome who has. Anywhere in the world."

She thought for a little bit before saying, "Can we order Thai and watch a movie?"

It was a surprising, no doubt, but he just smiled wide and said, "Of course we can."

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

Challenge: What do YOU think Hermione and Bill should do for her birthday after watching a movie and eating Thai food?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	13. Chapter 13

A/N. A LOT OF YOU ARE GOING TO LOVE ME FOR THIS CHAPTER. Just saying.

A lot of you might hate me for this chapter too. Depends on whose your favorite character, haha! A LOT happens here, too, so buckle-up it's going to be a bumpy ride! This chapter was originally longer, but I did something that I probably will regret and that you guys would hate me for doing if I told you - I deleted an entire part -_- . I have to sleep on whether or not adding it back in during the next chapter.

There's a challenge at the end, but here's one for you guys now too - WHAT WOULD YOU IMAGINE THE "DELETED SCENE" WAS FOR THIS CHAPTER? BROWNIE POINTS AND LOTS OF LOVE TO THE PERSON WHO FIGURES IT OUT. Also, it's probably nothing you would normally think it is. Hint: Nothing sexual was involved.

DISCLAIMER: I don't make money off this because I don't own it. I am a poor college student with too much time on her hands. J.K. Rowling is a rich, famous fiction writer who probably has three houses by now with all the dough she's rolling in. Because she earned it (:

…~oOo~…

"So, you're not going to tell me what I did that night?" Harry asked Draco, annoyed. They were both looking for something to eat in the fridge, but coming up blank.

But Draco was having too much fun over the last week making obscure references to the drunken night that Harry didn't remember. If there was one thing Draco Malfoy loved, it was fucking with the Boy Who Lived's head. Few things caused him as much pleasure.

"Nope," Draco said, shutting the refrigerator. "I think I'll let you stew for…oh, I don't know…another month. And I'll just continue dropping hints until you remember."

"It could not have been that terrible," Harry said doubtfully. "Because I did make it home and without any stranger next to me. For God's sake, I got drunk at the Burrow. It wasn't like I could pick up illegal drugs or a prostitute there." He rolled his eyes.

"I don't know about that…" Draco said, furthering the joke.

"Quit being so cryptic. It's unbecoming." Harry shut the pantry door and threw his hands up. "That's it. It's official. We are the typical bachelors. There's no food, we have to go out."

"Like, to a store…or a restaurant? Because I'd vastly prefer the latter."

"Fine." Harry rubbed his forehead, then it dawned on him. The perfect way to get Draco back for all of the arcane statements about the night he blacked out. "I know just the place! You'll absolutely love it."

Draco eyed Harry critically. "Why do I not trust you?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry answered, "Because you never have before."

"Valid point."

"Just follow me. I'll side-along you." Harry gestured for Draco to follow him as he walked towards the Apparition point in the backyard. He took Draco's elbow, closed his eyes and flicked his wand.

They landed in a back alley. Draco looked around curiously and then sighed. "You better have not brought me here to murder me."

Tired of all the eye-rolling that he had to do around his roommate, Harry settled for a sigh. "We're behind the restaurant."

"Why the fuck would you Apparate us to behind the restaurant?" Draco demanded. Potter must really be losing his mind, Draco thought.

"There isn't exactly an Apparition point for this restaurant." He took hold of Draco's sleeve and started pulling him around the side of the brick building until they were out of the alley and standing in front.

Seeing the restaurant and blanching, Draco muttered, "Oh, shit. No wonder I didn't trust you."

…

Hermione and Bill sat on the couch, laughing aloud at the movie on the screen with empty Thai containers on the coffee table. Bill had been reluctant to get a muggle television, but Hermione had insisted on getting one for the Cottage. Now he really did appreciate it as he saw the motley crew of _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy _on yet another planet getting themselves in trouble again.

"I don't get how 42 is the Answer to Everything," Bill observed, chuckling still at the screen.

"That's the point!" Hermione nudged him playfully with her shoulder. "Whose your favorite?"

"Hmm…probably Arthur Dent. He's downright pathetic," Bill said humorously.

"I like Marvin the Paranoid Android," Hermione declared. She liked the concept of a robot that was constantly depressed.

The credits began to roll and Hermione spontaneously ran out of the room. This wasn't exactly a strange thing for Hermione, just kind of abruptly leaving. He began picking up their finished take-out containers when he felt something abruptly be slung around his neck. Not arms, but soft…He looked down. It was a towel.

"Don't forget your towel!" Hermione exclaimed, running away again.

Bill laughed aloud. Apparently after-dinner entertainment would be a reenactment of the movie they just watched. Hermione ran to the fridge and got out two butterbeers and handed one to him.

She said, giggling, "Drink this, for muscle relaxant. DON'T PANIC."

They both downed the butterbeers with the urgency of the end of the world - again, like the movie - and then they both laughed really hard. Hermione began to sprint out of the room and Bill followed. Their acting out the movie quickly became a game of chase. Hermione hid behind walls and made erratic turns, went up the stairs and then back down, always with Bill in tow, following her scent if he couldn't see her.

He eventually caught her by taking both ends of the towel around his neck and swinging it over her head, looping it around her neck and yanking her back towards him. She squealed with laughter and allowed her capture, trying to get away playfully, kicking. He replaced the towel with his arms and hoisted her into the air, spinning her around.

"Bill!" she laughed, running out of breath from laughing and running. "Bill! Put me down!"

He didn't. Instead he tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and began walking her towards the front door. Once off the porch, he began running her around the dunes, spinning her even more outside.

Hermione was flushed and jovial, laughing harder than she had in ages. She was holding on tight to Bill and enjoying the ride. He eventually set her down and she found herself wobbly, dizzy and she stumbled.

Quick to steady her, Bill took her by the waist and set her upright, the both of them chuckling. She looked up at him, beaming.

They finished out their laughter while standing on the sand dunes, the sky dark around them. The ocean was choppy and a stormy grey in the moonlight.

Hermione realized how Bill's light blue eyes became dark at night and found the contrast of his dark eyes, pale skin, and red hair to be very…handsome. Her heart throbbed at the realization.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Bill asked, pulling her from her reverie. He'd been worried that she was going to fall into one of her deeper thoughts where she could end up staring at him blankly without realizing it for an hour. But her eyes weren't exactly blank, just…observing.

Hermione shook her head. "It's a nice night, don't you think?"

"Maybe the gods held off the clouds for your birthday," he said, looking up at the wide, open sky spattered with bright stars and a glowing half-moon.

"Maybe…" she considered, looking up with him. She recognized a collection of constellations. "Bill?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, looking down at her.

Before she could stop herself, she put both of her hands on his cheeks and then stoked them back into his hair. Bill closed his eyes, loving the warm sensation of her fingers. Opening his eyes, she found Hermione biting her lip and staring at him intently. Hypnotized by her beauty, he took a step closer to her and bowed his head to look down at her.

As if in slow motion, Hermione tilted forward and up onto her tiptoes to touch her lips to his. It was just a brush, as light as the feather end of a quill. Both of their eyes fell shut, enjoying the sensation of the other's mouth touching theirs. Bill brushed hers again and brought his hands around her back to tug her closer. His heart was going to explode from his chest just like his brother's fireworks had from their box.

When you imagine something for so long, when it happens, it's nearly surreal. Bill could feel the silkiness of Hermione's lips as they kissed, and the warms of her skin through her shirt, but he couldn't really believe any of it was real.

Even Hermione had a difficult time believing what was happening. Her chest was pulsing and she was lightheaded, but not from the spinning. Her knees were weak, but it wasn't from their chasing game. It was all a reaction to him, she thought with elation. It was an amazing feeling. She felt like she could float right up to the stars hanging in the sky above them. But Bill was what keeping her feet safely on the ground. He was always the one keeping her safe.

Their lips came apart to both of their dismays. The kiss had been so gentle it left them both longing for another kiss, but they were hesitant. They stared at one another for a moment, hearts beating in rapid synchronization.

Bill pulled Hermione into him, capturing her mouth in a proper kiss.

…

"You're an arsehole."

"Just shut up and order something."

"How can I? _I don't know what any of this stuff is_!" Draco Malfoy said, throwing down the menu that he'd been reluctant to pick up in the first place.

Harry sat across from him and looked up from his own laminated menu with a sigh. "It's all good, Draco. Just close your eyes, wave your finger over it and point."

"You say that it's all good, but I don't believe you for a second. This is muggle food," he hissed. "Stupid creatures probably don't know shepherd's pie from horse shite."

"They have shepherd's pie if you're going to be a baby about it, you know." Harry reached out and turned the page of Draco's menu. "See?" he said, pointing to the option.

Draco let out a long-suffering sigh. "I supposed I'll just get the beef. Not even a muggle could fuck that up."

"Oh, and just for the record, in case Your Pureblood Highness didn't know, muggles don't refer to themselves as muggles, so quit saying the word 'muggle'," Harry whispered, looking around to make sure none of the non-magical people in the restaurant were listening.

Harry's idea for payback was beginning to backfire. Draco was being such a child, it was rather annoying.

Draco Malfoy gave his famous sneer. "You'll pay for this, Potter. I don't know how and I don't know when, but it will be when you least expect it."

"I spent all six years of my time at Hogwarts watching my back because of you," Harry said simply. "It wasn't that difficult then, and it won't be that difficult now." He shrugged and continued considering his menu.

"I wasn't _that_ bad at school."

"Oh yes you were."

"It wasn't my fault you and your friends were easy targets."

"Just belt it and wait for the waitress. Maybe you can flirt her out of asking for a tip."

"What do you mean 'flirt'? Why would I flirt with that cow of a woman?"

"It's what you do. You flirt with anyone and everyone."

"I do not!"

"Do too. Ginny for example."

Draco huffed and used his menu to hit Harry on the head, hard.

"What was that for?" Harry demanded, rubbing his head.

"For being an idiot. You'd think the savior of the wizarding world was smarter than a potted plant. I don't flirt with the Weaselette. I tolerate her advances. I ignore her. I know she has no real interest in me, she just wants to get to me to piss you off and create conflict." Draco crossed his arms and sat back in his seat.

"Why would shagging you piss me off?"

"Oh, so you're saying you wouldn't mind if I shagged Ginny Weasley?"

"I'm not saying that," Harry said, getting exasperated. "I'm just saying why you would think it would piss me off."

"Because we're roommates of course," Draco said simply. "And she's your ex-girlfriend. There's a code between male friends, apparently. I'm not supposed to shag your women and vice versa. It's common sense, you oaf."

Oh, Harry thought with relief. For a second he thought more people knew about his feelings for Draco than just Bill and him. That could have been a disaster.

"I guess you're right," Harry mumbled.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem all that concerned. I could shag her you know. I mean, she's not that terrible to look at. Wouldn't you be bothered if I slept with her?"

"I'd be more bothered if she slept with you," Harry said without thinking. Fuck, he thought, I should just Avada myself now.

Draco's eyebrows came together in confusion. "What's the difference?"

Saved by the bell, Harry let out a grateful sigh when their server was in sight. The waitress came by and accepted the two men's orders. Draco was sneering at the prospect of having to eat muggle food, kind of making the waitress nervous because she thought she did something wrong, but just did her best to be a good server for the rest of the evening.

Draco and Harry were walking out of the restaurant when the former started harassing the Chosen One again.

"Okay, so what is the deal with Ginny?" Draco asked as they started strolling down the street. "Do you still have feelings for her or something? I thought you had a new witch?"

"What's with the third degree?" Harry commanded, flushed and annoyed.

"I am seriously confused is all. One second you're done with her, the next it's bothering her to have her flirting with me, and all along I thought you were charming a new witch stupid enough to fall for you." Draco was actively trying to keep up with the fast-paced Harry who just wanted to get away from the Slytherin before he did something stupid.

"IT'S NOT A WITCH, OKAY?" Harry finally erupted.

Draco didn't miss a beat. "Well, hell, why didn't you say something? Blaise Zabini is single, you know, and -"

"Wait. WHAT?"

"I'm trying to set you up with -"

"No, stop. I was expecting a little bit more of a reaction," Harry said, halting. His heart was thrumming at a million beats per minute.

"I kind of always expected you were gay," Draco said casually with a shrug. "I mean, how many wizards do you know that _constantly_ have I-just-got-off-my-broom hair?"

"IT DOES THAT ON ITS OWN!" Harry shouted, smacking his hands down on his unkempt hair protectively. He continued marching forward as fast as he could without full-on running.

"Why are you being so defensive?" Draco asked, catching up with some effort. "Would you rather I freak out and demand your head on a platter? Did my level of bigotry not reach your standards?"

"STOP ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS, IT'S FREAKING ME THE FUCK OUT."

"HARRY POTTER, YOU STOP WALKING AWAY FROM ME, THIS INSTANT."

So shocked by Draco's sudden shouting, Harry obeyed.

"Thank you," Draco said, letting out a huff. "I can't walk that fast, you know. Anyway, I don't get why you're being such a prat. I'm actually being considerate for a change and you're just stalking away like some kind of tortured-soul vampire."

"Aren't you worried?" Harry demanded skeptically. "You're living alone in a big empty house with a gay bloke."

Draco snorted. "Please. If I didn't want you in my bedroom, you bloody well wouldn't be able to get in my bedroom. I'm not all that worried about my well-being, if that's what you mean. But I'm touched that you care." He rolled his eyes. "I spent all of Hogwarts sharing a dorm with Blaise, fully well knowing his preferences of wizards over witches. I mean, look at how he _dresses_, for Salazar's sake! Do I _look_ stupid to you?"

High off of relief, Harry snorted. "You don't want me to answer that question."

Draco glowered. "Don't be smart with me. I'll poke your scar."

"Oh, _so_ scary," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Draco lived up to his promise, harshly reaching forward and jabbing Harry in the forehead with his index finger.

"Ouch!" Harry rubbed his head.

"I warned you."

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE FASTER! THEY MAKE ME DANCE!

Challenge: 1. Have you ever watched Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? (If you haven't, do it right NOW.) 2. What was your favorite part of this chapter? 3. How do YOU think Harry should confess his feelings for Draco? 4. What do you think will happen now that Hermione and Bill kissy-kissied? 5. (See Author's Note at the Beginning).

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	14. Chapter 14

A/N. HULLO READERS! This chapter is the shortest one yet, unfortunately /: it was SUPPOSED to be longer, but I had quite a bit of a busy day that I hadn't planned on having. I went to the doctor, thinking I had the flu and instead got some AMAZING NEWS. I'M GOING TO BE A MOMMY! And I know in the past I've mentioned how I'm a poor college student, and most often a girl would be freaking out about this news, BUT I AM SO EXCITED. And I have this amazing new job and I am going to be more than able to support myself and my child :)

And more than likely most of you are probably like "This bitch needs to quit talkin about how she got knocked up so I can fucking read what's happening to Hermione and Bill" but TOO BAD. I AM SO HAPPY.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. Once again.

…~oOo~…

Bill listened to the sound of Hermione pacing in her own room down the hall for most of the night. It was about eleven-thirty that he heard her get into bed and suspected she was asleep. He couldn't get a wink of rest, though, his head was spinning too much.

After he snogged her on the beach - best snog of his fucking life - they'd walked into the house holding hands. He could practically hear her mind whirling at a hundred kilometers per second, so he bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and advised her to go to bed and to not stress on anything that happened. She'd just numbly nodded, with that far-off look in her eyes that she got sometimes and walked to her room.

And now it was around one o'clock in the morning and Bill still couldn't sleep. He was lying on his back, hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. His body thought he was asleep, but his brain couldn't be more aware. He just kept replaying their kisses in his mind like a film.

Then there were the footsteps in the hall. He was slow to react to them and by the time he sat up, there was a light knock on the door.

"Hermione? Come in," he called out.

The door creaked open and there Hermione was in an oversized t-shirt and panties, but nothing else, barefoot and looking like a scared child with glassy eyes. "I had a nightmare," she said quietly.

He wasn't surprised. It happened quite often. Normally she'd come in, sit with her knees up against her chest and tell Bill all about it while he stroked her back. She liked with when he stroked her back, scratching it lightly - it calmed her down.

But tonight she just said meekly, "Do you mind if I sleep in here? I'd understand if you wanted your bed to yourself, of course."

"Come here," he said, gesturing her over and pulling back the covers on the side he never slept on.

Hermione gave him a watery smile and crawled in next to him. She worked herself into the same position that she did the last time they shared the bed at the Burrow. Snuggled half on top of him, arms curled around him, face in his neck.

"'Mione?" he whispered.

"Mmm?"

"When we share a bed…why do you lie the way you do?" he inquired.

She paused. "Am I too heavy? Because I can move -" She began to adjust, but he tightened his hold on her.

"No, not at all. I was just…curious." Bill moved his hand up at down her spine lightly, tracing shapes on her.

Hermione considered this for a moment. "If I lay like this…I'll know if you get up."

"Oh," was all Bill said.

"Bill?" she said, and he thought it was under her breath. "Can you scratch my back?"

Smirking Bill answered, "Sure." And he did as she said.

…

It was about four o'clock in the morning when Harry started brewing coffee in the kitchen. He couldn't sleep. Not after all that happened the night before. Never in a million years had he planned to let it slip to Draco Malfoy that he liked boys. I mean, if the man didn't like muggle born wizards, why would Harry think Draco'd like homosexuals?

It wasn't logical, yet it happened. Harry lifted himself up to sit on the dark stone countertops with his cup of coffee. He drank his coffee with a lot of cream and sugar until there was almost no coffee flavor. He knew this was probably counterproductive, but didn't care. In muggle films, when people couldn't sleep, what did they do? Went to the kitchen and made coffee.

Harry was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the footsteps that made their way into the kitchen as well.

"Oh. You," Draco said with sleepy surprise. "Can no one sleep in this godforsaken house?" He made his way to the pantry to pull out the cookie jar, popping the top open and taking out three of the baked goods.

Harry smirked. "Guess not, apparently. Do you need some Dreamless Sleep?"

"Nah," Draco said with a shake of his head. "In Sixth Year, that stuff was the only reason I could ever sleep. I was pretty much addicted, really. I don't want to have to touch it ever again. The only way I ever will is if I'm charged with murdering a one-hundred and fifteen year old Headmaster for a second time."

Harry gave a sad smile. "Fair enough. Not likely to happen, though."

"And thank Merlin for that." Draco stuffed the cookies into his mouth. "Why can't you sleep?"

"My brain won't turn off." Harry shrugged.

"I know what that's like." Draco leaned against the counter opposite Harry. "Thinking about the bloke you're trying to seduce? Because he's not going to like you very much with bags and circles under your eyes."

Rolling his eyes, Harry answered, "That's none of your business. And who knows, maybe he'd like the nocturnal look. Girls fall for it in those bloody vampire movies."

Draco just stuffed another cookie in his mouth. "Whatever. Just some friendly advice. No need to be a sour puss about it."

"Draco…" Harry said hesitantly. He took a sip of his coffee. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Bloody hell," Draco grumbled. "Now we're getting down to the deep stuff. I'm going to need at least four more cookies and a bottle of Firewhiskey to handle this garbage."

"Well, gee, all you had to say was no."

The blonde boy took a deep breath. "Let me make this clear. Love doesn't happen often in this world. So I try my best to avoid believing in it because chances are that the moment you do find love, it'll all go to hell. That being said…yes. I have been in love. And it sucked," he added wryly with a sneer.

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"Don't look so shocked," Draco growled, "and pour me a cup of coffee. If we're going to have a heart to heart, caffeine is in order."

"Who were you in love with?" the boy with the scar on his forehead asked as he poured his roommate a healthy mug of coffee.

"_Am_ in love with, Potter. True love - at least in my experience - never really goes away." Draco accepted the mug of black coffee and took a long pull of the burning liquid. "And don't tell anyone I ever said that. Because I'll strangle you in your sleep and feel no remorse over it."

"Yes, sir," Harry said sarcastically.

Draco eyed him scornfully, but took another drink of the coffee. "Anyone, who it is, is none of your business."

"Is it someone we went to school with?"

"Yes," Draco said simply. "And that's the only hint you're getting. Now, I am going to take this coffee and go up to my room where I will brood now that you've got me thinking about how loveless my future is destined to be. Thanks, Potter." Draco slumped out of the room exhaustedly and Harry was left behind to think.

Eventually, Harry just took the Dreamless Sleep.

…

The next morning, there was a knock on the front door of the Cottage. A very demanding, loud knock.

Bill learned very quickly that Hermione doesn't wake up for anyone. She he picked her up like he had when she wouldn't get up for breakfast, wrapping her around his torso, and hurried down the stairs to meet their visitor. Opening the door without thinking, Bill was stunned at who he found.

"Please tell me that you haven't drugged her," Severus Snape said with a sneer, looking pointedly at Hermione's sleeping form clinging to Bill. "If you have, I'm afraid I won't hesitate to kill you."

"Come on in, Snape," Bill said, ignoring the threats. "I'll make some breakfast."

"Actually, you'd be making lunch. It's noon."

Bill's eyes popped open wide. "Really? Thank Merlin it's the weekend. Hermione and I would probably get fired for being so late," he said with a chuckled, leading Snape to the kitchen while Hermione continued sleeping deeply. She had a rough night sleep-wise, so he understood.

"Indeed," Snape said, sounding just as unpleasant as he always did. Bill enjoyed his company nonetheless. "I've come to deliver Hermione's birthday present. I could not get away from the rebuild yesterday to deliver it personally, and I would not trust an owl with something so delicate." He pulled a little parcel from the inside of his dark cloaks, the size of a small jewelry box.

"Are you proposing?" Bill taunted good-naturedly. "If so, congratulations. It's about time there was a Mrs. Snape. She'd probably accept, too."

Snape did not look amused by this. He simply took his seat at the kitchen table and glared, as usual. Bill gently set Hermione down in the seat across from her favorite professor and whispered in her ear, coaxing her to consciousness.

When Hermione finally moaned and agreed to open her eyes, she saw Snape and gave a smile that she kept on through a long yawn. "Hello, Professor," she said, sounding sleepily happy. "What brings you to the Cottage this fine day?"

"Happy Birthday," Snape said simply, sliding the small box across the table to her.

Hermione beamed, her eyes still droopy, and began to pluck apart the paper and find a wooden box the size of a ring-box. She lifted the lid carefully and found inside a thick steel ring with a seal on the front with a Star of David-looking pattern and decorative lines around the edges, but little circles between the points of the star.

"Its called the Seal of Solomon. Surely you've heard of it in mythologies?" Snape said.

Hermione nodded, entranced by the ring. "It's said to capture demons."

"Yes, well, that's a load of rubbish," Snape said. Hermione giggled at that. He continued, "It does, however, absorb negative energies. Such as when you're sleeping. It keeps away nightmares."

"Really?" Hermione said, looking up with large, round eyes. "That's…incredible. Thank you so much." She stood up and walked over to give Snape a hug around the neck. He slowly patted her back.

"Um…Miss Granger?" he said.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Why are you not wearing pants?"

Hermione looked down and realized that she was still wearing her big t-shirt and panties. She shrugged. "Because I just woke up."

"Perhaps you should go dress."

Hermione groaned because of the effort that would require, but knew better than to argue with Professor Snape. She dragged herself up the steps to her bedroom.

"You realize," Bill said as he started pulling food from their fridge, "that the moment she gets to her room, she is going to fall asleep in her bed and never come down, right?"

"Is that a habit of hers?"

Bill nodded. "Most definitely. It's hell getting her to work in the mornings."

"Who can blame her," Snape murmured silkily. "Those goblins are horrible to deal with. Which is why I don't understand why you ever came back to work at a desk while being surrounded by dozens of ill-tempered, pointy-eared dwarves."

"Who are you to call anyone ill-tempered?" Bill asked rhetorically. He bent around the archway to the kitchen and peered up the stairs. Predictably, he head no movement and called out, "HERMIONE! WAKE UP AND COME DOWNSTAIRS!"

There was a loud unintelligible half-groan half-yell that Bill took to mean that he could sod off.

"Excuse me for a moment," Bill said to Snape politely and began marching up the stairs.

Bill knocked on Hermione's bedroom door and received no answer. He opened it and found…nothing. It was empty. Panic it him hard in the chest. He checked the bathroom. Empty. The guest room. Empty.

Finally, as his last resort, he peeked into his own bedroom. Sure enough, there she was curled up on her side, breathing softly. He realized that she'd managed to actually get dressed before passing out, wearing what looked to be a brand new white sundress. Bill suspected that Ginny must have been involved in the purchase of it because Hermione was stubborn about clothes shopping. If it were up to Hermione, she'd walk around either nude or in pajamas constantly, so actually taking time to pick out such a pretty piece of clothing was obviously Ginny's doing.

Bill walked over and shook her awake, saying her name several times. She eventually opened her eyes and they weren't sleep-filled. They were quite aware, actually.

"I wasn't sleeping," she said so quietly he barely caught the words.

"What were you doing?" he asked.

"Thinking…" she murmured. "Trying to figure out if last night was real or a dream."

"It all depends," Bill said. "On what you think happened last night."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione dismissed, sitting up. "I've realized it was a dream, anyway. No big deal."

"Hermione -"

"Yes?" she asked innocently.

Bill swallowed. She obviously thought that their kissing on the beach was a figment of her imagination, and he had to admit himself that it'd been surreal. But he knew the truth. He considered that maybe the reason she so quickly wrote it off as a dream was because really she just wished it never happened. It was easy to forget something unpleasant if you convince yourself it wasn't real.

If that was the case, he did not want to bring it up. If she wanted it to be a dream, then a dream it shall remain.

"Never mind," Bill said with a shrug. "Just wanted to know what you wanted for lunch. Which, I realize now is a silly question because I know your answer -"

"_Pudding_," they both stated in unison, making Hermione laugh.

_Oh Merlin_, Bill thought miserably, _that laugh will be my undoing_.

…

Rodolphus had grown gaunt and hairy during only his first few months in Azkaban. Sitting in the corner of his cell, he stared at the call at his tally-marks that he made with his eating utensils. Every breakfast, he carved another line into the wall to keep track of his days.

When the wedding band on his left hand started growing warm and vibrate as softly as a butterfly's wing, it was like church bells ringing in his chest.

Rodolphus Lestrange let a manic smile cross his face. His wife was back.

...~oOo~...

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

Challenge: 1. Who do you think it is that Draco's been in love with since Hogwarts? 2. Do you want to see Snape more often? 3. Do you think Hermione will ever realize that her and Bill's moment on the beach wasn't a dream? If so, how? 4. HOLY SHIT, BELLATRIX WHATTHEFUCK? What do you think Rodolphus's ring coming to life means?

AND. 5. Since I'm about nine weeks along - EEEK! - I guess I should start thinking about names, so what is your favorite names for boy and girl babies? (Only if you want to share of course)


	15. Chapter 15

A/N. HULLO READERS! Here's another chapter for you!

THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER! And a special thanks goes out to Auora-16 who I just generally find cool and suggested the name "Lyric" for my baby, which I ABSOLUTELY LOVE. ALL of you gave me some GREAT NAME IDEAS. If you'd like, continue sending them in reviews!

A challenge is at the end of the chapter, as always :D

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except the clothes on my back and the baby in my belly. Harry Potter is all J.K.R.'s.

…~oOo~…

Draco was studying for his final exams at Hogwarts so that he wouldn't have to go back for an "8th Year". All he wanted to do was get his exams and get out. He couldn't go back to Hogwarts - it just wasn't an option. Harry was the same way. Hogwarts held too many horrible memories that overshadowed any good times.

He hated to admit it, but Draco felt bad for Harry. He'd been such the golden boy all through school and now his best friend the ginger is being a prick and his other best friend the bookworm barely remembered who he was. On top of this, his godfather and a bunch of his friends were dead and he seemed to be really torn up over this bloke that he was pining over.

The Chosen One was not having an easy time of it.

Draco even felt bad for Hermione. She barely knew them, but she had some pretty loyal friends. Even now when she still had a hard time remembering everything about them, they stood by their side. Except for the Weasel who went from ignoring her to dating her to being an arsehole because she broke up with him.

He groaned. Look what he was coming to, pitying Gryffindors. Draco smacked his forehead down into his book in the manner of a self-punishing house-elf. What his father would do if he could see him now. Draco cringed at the thought. Not for the first time, Draco found himself thanking Merlin that his father was in Azkaban. And that his mother was in hiding. If they knew where he was staying and with whom - he'd be disinherited and burned off the family tree along with Sirius and Andromeda.

He smacked himself in the forehead with the heavy text again, for good measure.

And for fuck's sake, imagine what they'd say if they knew who he was in love with. They would disown him. They'd _kill_ him.

Then the Floo started flaring up and a familiar face poked out of it.

"Draco! Come down to St. Mungo's, quick! Harry's been attacked!" McGonagall reported hastily, her head disappearing as fast as it'd shown up.

It must have been a real emergency for McGonagall not to call him "Mr. Malfoy" he decided, so he promptly dropped his book and stepped into the Floo, transporting himself to the hospital.

…

Hermione was napping on the couch in footsie-pajamas. Bill smirked. The story of how she came to possess the one-piece, zip-up pajama was actually pretty amusing. Ginny had been charged with getting Hermione all of her clothes because the brunette just would not go shopping for clothes. So Ginny had become determined to find a way to get Hermione to wear shoes or socks.

And then she found the footsie-pajamas. It was perfect. Hermione actually loved them, but they all knew that it was the only way to get her to wear something on her feet for more than five minutes at a time.

Bill was picking up the Cottage. Normally Hermione liked to tidy up, but she was exhausted for some reason. He had no clue why. Her new ring from Snape seemed to be keeping the nightmares away and she went to sleep at normal times.

Bill wanted to smack himself. He had to stop thinking of her like she was a child.

His mind was a very muddled place. On one side of the brain, he thought of Hermione was a child who needed looking-after. On the other side, however, he wanted to kiss her senseless, rip off the pajamas, and make love to her on that couch.

It was a horrible conundrum that gave him quite the migraine if he thought about it for too long.

He felt like a pervert for having fantasies about a girl in footsie-pajamas anyway.

"Coffee," he mumbled to himself. "I need coffee."

Then the Floo started acting up and Hermione wrenched up from the couch in shock as McGonagall's voice traveled through the house, informing them that Harry had been attacked before disappearing again.

"We have to go!" Hermione said, jumping up and running for the fireplace.

"Wait, Hermione, you're -"

But the green flames engulfed her and she was gone.

" - wearing pajamas," he finished uselessly. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and the stubble growing along his jaw and walked towards the fireplace himself.

When he arrived in St. Mungo's he found that Hermione already started harassing a medi-witch. He smirked because she was making herself right at home in the hospital. Bill hurried over to try to disengage the situation when Hermione was suddenly distracted by someone else.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, scurrying over like an overgrown toddler. "How's Harry? What happened?" She looked up at the tall, dark, imposing man with eyes of absolute adoration and trust.

"What in the good Lord's name are you wearing?" he demanded, looking her up and down.

"Do you like them?" she asked, giving a spin to show off the blue and white-bunny patterned ensemble. The little bunny rabbits were all over, looking out at Snape as if saying "please love me".

"I think they're horrendous," Snape informed her.

Hermione shrugged. "I guess they're not for everyone. So tell me, what happened to Harry?"

Snape sighed. "There was an attack outside the Ministry. Death Eaters, it seems. The brawl ended with Potter having a potion shoved down his unconscious throat which seems to be suspending him in a sort of coma. The Healers are searching for an antidote now."

"You should help them!" Hermione said. "You're a potion master, after all."

Snape sneered. "I offered my assistance and they politely declined. And then, of course, I impolitely informed them of their own stupidity, to which I was unceremoniously discharged from the room."

"They kicked you out? For calling them stupid?" Bill clarified.

A barely-there smile, a mere twitch of his lips, came to Snape's face. "I may have called them much more than that."

Hermione sighed. "You should be nicer to the Healers."

"Coming from the ex-patient who threatened to strangle the Healer charged with your care."

"She really threatened to kill him?" Bill asked.

"More than once," Snape confirmed. "She had to have been the worst patient St. Mungo's has ever seen and she believes she should be telling me how to treat the workers here." His lips curled unpleasantly.

Hermione gave another shrug, her favorite way to respond when someone said something about her. "Can we see Harry?"

"He's been stabilized, but they only want one visitor at a time for now," Snape reported. "And I believe Draco is in with the patient currently."

At that, Hermione smiled.

…

"Now you've done it, Potter," Draco said, sneering. He sat, leaning forward, in a chat next to the unconscious dark-haired man's head.

Harry looked like a corpse if you didn't pay very close attention to his chest. His skin was as pale and cool as a ghost's and his eyes and lips were shut. His ridiculously messy hair was parted in a way that his lightning-bolt shaped scar stood out like a fog horn on his forehead.

Draco heard somewhere that coma patients could hear you when you talked to them, so he decided to keep Harry's ears busy.

"Gone and gotten yourself attacked," Draco continued, shaking his head. "Rita Skeeter will love this. Pin it all on me, no doubt. Claim that I wanted your property for my own and say I hired some Death Eaters to end you. I hope you're happy."

Harry, predictably, didn't respond.

"I suppose you are, though," the blonde boy said, raking a hand through his shaggy hair. "Now that boy you're after will have no choice but to pay attention to you. Who doesn't love a good romance novel where someone goes into a coma? Chances are that while you're in this state, your boy will realize his love for you and then the moment you wake up you'll have amnesia and not know who he is. The rest of the plot, of course, involves him reminding you of all the reasons you loved him in the first place and have it all end with you growing old together and spoiling grandchildren."

To that, Harry said nothing.

"Oh, you don't wand children?" Draco said. "Good. Nasty little buggers." He paused. "In all honesty, though, you better pull yourself out of this. Pretty stupid of you to have everyone worry. Not me, of course - I know how much of a drama queen you are, but the Weasleys and Granger and McGonagall will all fawn over you like you're on you goddamn deathbed. Do you know how annoying that'll be?"

Draco sighed and shifted his weight in his seat. He carefully reached out to put the back of his hand to Harry's forehead. "You're pretty cold," Draco told him. "Perhaps I should get you another blanket? Maybe a hat? Oh, I know." Draco pulled off his overcoat and draped it on top of the blankets already cocooning Harry. "There. That'll keep you warn. Never say I never gave you anything, understand?"

The Slytherin Prince leaned back and cross his legs. "You may be wondering why I'm not leaving if I care so little. Well, the answer is simple. The Healers will only allow one person in to see you at a time because of your delicate state - you sensitive prat - and as long as I'm in here, no one else can come in and cry over your body like you're in a fucking coffin. More than my own annoyance for their snot and sobbing, I know _you'd_ hate that. Having everyone carry so little faith in you to pull through. You're the fucking Boy Who Lived, for Merlin's sake! They think you can be hit with an _Avada Kedavra _twice, live to tell about it, but can't pull through a silly little Death Eater attack? The idiots," Draco spat.

Draco tapped his fingers on his knee as he thought. "We never did get to finish our heart-to-heart conversation about love where I outline my absolute contempt for the particular emotion. Love is awful. It keeps you up at night and follows you everywhere, no matter what you do. Being in love is the equivalent of having a stalker.

"But…at the same time, it's…nice." Draco scowled. "Yes, I know. Pathetic, right? Love being nice when every other minute it's horrid. I've seen some people be in love and happy. Like Molly and Arthur Weasley, they seem happy in a weird, disgusting, gingery kind of way. And George and Lovegood seem to be fucking glowing all the time. Then again, she's always happy about some bloody thing or the other.

"For a lot of people, though, love is a burden," Draco continued glumly. "Look at Bill and Granger. They practically eat each other with their eyes but can't admit to themselves or the other how they feel. And Snape. He's been in love with the same woman since he was eleven years old. She even married someone else, had Potter's spawn, and then died. And he _still_ can't get over it. And finally, the worst love story of them all, Albus Dumbledore himself was in love with a man who manipulated him and then committed mass genocide. I don't think anyone can get more unlucky than that." Draco shook his head. "Don't tell anyone I know that, by the way. Dumbledore told me that in confidence when he found out…well…when he found out about who _I _was pining for.

"The man was basically obsessed with love. You know that, Potter," Draco said. "He was always telling you about how you could only kill Voldemort with love, blah blah. And all the while he held a deep resentment for his own heart." Draco shrugged. "That's what happens when you fall for a murderer, I guess.

"I didn't fall in love with a murderer," Draco clarified, "in case that's what you were thinking. No, Dumbledore was actually more or less relating me to Grindelwald and the person I love to him. Sad, right?"

Harry's breathing remained the same and he was as still as a statue. Not a Hogwarts statue, though, a muggle statue.

"Moral of the story is," Draco wrapped up, "that love sucks. And I'm apparently fucking Gellert Grindelwald reincarnate. And you're fucking Albus Dumbledore, so you _know what_? I give up!" Draco hoisted himself out of his chair and glared darkly at the boy in the bed, leaning over his boy, propped up on his elbows. "I may have been in love with you since I was twelve years old, but I hope you wake up with fucking amnesia because unlike every other idiot in this hospital, I know that life isn't a romance novel and at least if you didn't remember who I was, I could force myself to move on."

Draco stared at the motionless Harry Potter, waiting for some kind of answer. "You're stupider than I thought, Potter," he hissed. "I just _declared my love for you _and you can't even find the decency to wake up from your coma. Whoever the guy you're into is, I hope he realizes what a prat you are.

"Which only makes me even more of an idiot for loving you," Draco finished with a drained sigh. "Just wake up, alright? I'll wash the dishes the muggle way for weeks if it amuses you. I'll even let you take me to muggle restaurants and stores without even a word from me. As long as it makes you happy."

All his anger gone, Draco slowly reached out to posh aside his hair and put it into some kind of order. But to no prevail. "Wow," he remarked, almost impressed at how stubborn his hair was. "You weren't kidding when you said it looked like this on its own."

Draco Malfoy took a deep breath and bent down further to whisper something in his ear. The words were things he never imagined to say out loud, but managed to force them from his throat. And when he pulled back Draco lowered his lips onto Harry's for the first and last time.

…

Everyone waiting outside Harry's room jumped when the door suddenly flew open, and angry-looking Draco Malfoy storming out and not looking at a single one of them. He just marched through them determinedly and disappeared around a corner. They all watched him as he left with dumbfounded expressions.

"I'm next!" Hermione said while everyone was still recovering from Draco's dramatic exit. Before anyone could protest, she ran through the door and closed it behind her.

Everyone was left outside, yet again.

Snape said to Bill as they waited, "Are you ever going to explained what's happened?"

"What do you mean?" Bill asked, nonplussed.

"Between you and Hermione. I noticed it when I came over to give Hermione her present and I noticed it when you two arrived here. So. Tell me what happened."

"What exactly did you notice?"

"Oh, I don't know," Snape said, dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe that the longing you both hold in your eyes for one another has increased at an impressive rate."

"Wait. What?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Snape growled. "I know how you two feel about each other - as does most of England at this point - and those feelings have become painfully obvious to all those around you in only a few days. So, please, enlighten me."

Bill rubbed his jaw and said, "You wouldn't understand."

Raising one dark eyebrow and pursing his lips, Snape inquired, "You do not think I would understand unrequited love? It's true…Gryffindors truly are as stupid as they seem. And here I thought you were the exception, William. How…disappointing."

"Fine," Bill said, defeated, "but just stop making me feel about an inch tall every time we talk, please?"

Snape gave a small nod and waited for him to continue.

"Hermione and I…kissed."

"Did she hex you?"

"_No_, Snape, she did not _hex_ me." Bill rolled his eyes.

"Pity…"

"Are you interested in listening or not?"

Snape gave a flourish of his hand, welcoming Bill to continue.

Bill took a breath and explained, "We kissed. And it was…amazing. And then we went to bed. She woke up because of a nightmare and came into my bedroom for the night. Purely innocent. The next morning you arrive and later on she makes it very clear that she did not believe it happened."

"You mean…she wishes that you had never kissed her?"

"Not quite," Bill said slowly. "More like…she thought it was a dream. A figment of her imagination. I know that she sometimes has a difficult time differentiating reality from her dreams - it's been that way since she moved in - but never did she misplace something so…significant as a hallucination."

"Perhaps it just was not memorable."

"Thank you, Snape," Bill grumbled. "Really. _Thanks_."

"It is not my fault if you were an unsatisfactory kisser."

"I will have you not," Bill said heatedly, "I am a bloody fantastic kisser."

"And how exactly would you know?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "Have you had the opportunity to kiss yourself?"

Bill glowered. "I've been told so, okay?"

"In my experience, women are not the sort of creatures to inform you after kissing you if you are bad at it or not," Snape purred, obviously enjoying the frustration he was causing in the young man.

Bill threw up his hands. "Well, I guess that's it, then!" he declared. "I suck at kissing, so Hermione pushed it into the dream box inside her head, and now I'm destined to be miserable for the rest of my natural life because my wife divorced me and the love of my life can't even tolerate kissing me once. Too bad, so sad, William Weasley dies alone, the end."

"Are you finished, yet?" Snape inquired.

"Not until you give me a better reason as to why Hermione thought it was her imagination."

"You are missing the obvious answer," Snape said. "Surely you've heard the figurative phrase 'it was like a dream' before, yes? And when used, the phrase is to describe a good event, correct? So, it stands to reason that perhaps Hermione had dreamt of…kissing you…so many times before that when it actually happened, she mistook it for yet another fantasy?"

Bill whole body went rigid, considering this. "So…you think…she didn't hate it?"

"With the way she looks at you," Snape confirmed, "I'd say I _know _she did not hate it."

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

Challenge: 1. Explain why you think the attack on Harry happened? 2. What was your favorite part of this chapter? 3. Where do you think Draco went? 4. What do you think Draco whispered in Harry's ear?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	16. Chapter 16

A/N. HULLOOO! NEW CHAPTER, YEY! However, I have some good and bad news. Bed pieces of news: This is a short chapter L I'm sorry. I'm only human and I had to end it where I ended it (you'll see why) AND I've decided we're coming towards the end of Prisoner. Good news: WE'RE COMING TOWARDS THE END OF PRISONER! WOOT! I always feel satisfied but sad when I love a fic and it ends, but I couldn't decided which category to put it in.

Never fear though, I anticipate at least 23 chapters total. That may or may not be including the epilogue (I love writing epilogues, they make me happy).

BUT. If you are sad to see this story coming to a close and like my writing, I have TWO other stories posted, both a little more intricate and bound to be lengthier than this on. Teddy Lupin: The Wolf, the Witch, and the Wraith AND (my newer one) The Last Marauder. The first caters to the love of next generation stories, the second to the love for Marauders' era fics.

As always, there's a challenge at the end, and ENJOY!

…~oOo~…

Hermione smiled at Harry's sleeping form sadly. She went to sit at the foot of his bed and said, "So, Draco was in here, eh?" She wagged her eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, no need to explain yourself! Unless of course you're one to kiss and tell, then, please tell me all the juicy details." She giggled lightly and patted his ankle. "Next time you try and tell me you're not Snow White, I will remind you of this moment. Silly Harry."

Then Hermione heard the sickening pop of Apparition behind her and spun around, heart thumping.

Standing there was a very familiar woman, only here eyes were different. Her pupil, her iris, and whites of her eyes looked as if they were coated with black ink.

…

The feet of Draco Malfoy smacked the ground with hard raps as he marched towards Azkaban prison. The massive building was newly repaired from the mass break out just before the war and security had increased. When Draco got to the front, the guards confiscated his wand before he could go in. Draco was all to happy to give it to them - if he had to fight he'd rather punch someone in the face. It was much more satisfying when he was this angry.

The cells were disgusting and dark and damp, and criminally small. Only the best for the worst wizards England has ever seen. Especially in the hall he was walking down. Men were tattooed over their faces and calling out dirty remarks to him, and Draco knew all their stories. Murderers, rapists, kidnappers…They had the blackest of souls and deserved their sentencing.

And when Draco came to the cell that he'd come for, he was satisfied with the punishment of Azkaban. The man before him stole the soul of a child, trained him coldly and brutally like a soldier, even gave the soldier he created the job of killing a man ten times his age.

"Hello, Father," Draco sneered, marching straight up to the bars and looking down at Lucius Malfoy, his platinum blonde hair scraggly and greasy around his shoulders, a blonde beard adorned his chin. "Nice place you have here."

Lucius Malfoy slowly and weakly lifted himself off the cot and stood to look at his son through the bars of her personal hell. "Come to gloat, Draco?" Lucius asked, his baritone voice - normally smooth and confident - was raspy and low. "Brag of how you escaped punishment by being a coward?"

Draco's sneer only increased. "I'm the coward? The only reason why you got yourself into this mess was because of fear. Fear of a man much more powerful than you."

"Oh," Lucius said, feigning surprise, "and that is not what you did?"

"I became a Death Eater to make you proud. Because all my life you made me believe that's what I was made for." Draco gripped the bars with his fists. "But I'm not here to reminisce, unfortunately. I'm here because I know you're still connected with Death Eaters and I want to know who ordered the attack on Harry Potter."

Lucius gave a wry, croak-like laugh. He sounded like a toad. "Is revenge not a good enough reason?"

"No," Draco told him hotly. "Death Eaters are pack creatures. They follow whoever is the Alpha. Well, Potter killed the Alpha, and yet this attack was organized. The entire thing was too thorough to be just a random hunt for revenge. A potion down the throat after he was already unconscious?" Draco snorted. "Right. As if Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott could possible be intelligent enough to come up with such a thing."

"Why, Draco," Lucius said with dangerous serenity. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost say you were…concerned for Potter."

"I'd say you were right," Draco told him spitefully. "I am concerned. And do you know why? Because I've sharing a house with Potter. How do you like that, Father? Death Eater roommates with the Chosen One. Has a nice ring of irony to it, doesn't it?" Draco gave a shark-like smile.

Lucius hesitated. "You lie. You wouldn't leave your mother and Narcissa would never live under the same roof as the boy who put me here."

"Mum," Draco said, "is in hiding because of your sorry arse. She can't go out in public without having her life threatened. I am living with Potter and believe it or not, I think we've become something of…friends."

"_Stupid boy_!" Lucius growled, grabbing the same bars as his son, his fists inches above Draco's. "You've painted a target on your chest for this! Being a traitor is the most heinous crime a Death Eater can commit! And now that we're back on the rise, you are surely going to be on the hit-list and I will be unable to save you this time!"

"What do you mean back on the rise?" Draco demanded scathingly. "Tell me what's changed! The Dark Lord is dead! Who has taken up his place as leader?"

Lucius remained silent.

"_Tell me_!" Draco snarled.

Lucius leaned as close to the bars as possible and whispered to Draco, his breath smelling putrid and like sewage. "Your Aunt Bella, boy, has picked up the torch."

Draco glared daggers. "Don't toy with me, Father. Bellatrix is dead. Longbottom killed her."

"How amusing," Lucius said with a small grin. "That's what everyone said about the Dark Lord himself after the first war. And yet everyone continues saying it."

Draco's blood felt like snow running through his body. "No. You can't be saying -"

"Things are rarely as they seem, Draco," Lucius purred. "You and your new _friends_ think the war is over, but they are far from victory."

"Tell me how she's come back," Draco commanded.

Lucius laughed, shaking his head and clicking his tongue in a chiding manner. "You are the enemy, now, son. I'm not fool enough to reveal all my information to a spy like you."

Knowing that he received all the information that he was going to get from his father at this point, Draco let go of the bars and backed up a few steps. He stared levelly at the man he used to worship. The same man brought down to the living conditions of a rat. The man who told his Lord to mark his son with the symbol of evil that would never leave Draco's forearm. This wasn't his father, Draco decided. This was an animal. A monster.

"You cannot touch me, anymore, Father," Draco said, gesturing vastly at the bars dividing them. "You cannot hurt me or manipulate and control me. Or mother. So I will leave you with something you can stew over in this box while I'm out destroying my aunt and your fellow followers.

"I love Harry Potter," Draco said slowly and precisely, "with every fiber of my being. And if he never wakes up from his coma - or God forbid, dies - I will hold you personally responsible. And _I will kill you_."

Every drop of blood drained from Lucius's face and the absolute horror Draco found there was satisfying enough for him to turn and walk away, down the corridor, listening to the wrathful screams of his father echoing behind him. And it felt fantastic.

…

"I don't like how long it's taking Hermione," Bill said, checking his watch for the twelfth time. "Maybe we should just peek in. Knowing her she probably fell asleep."

"She _was_ wearing that repulsive piece of sleepwear," Snape conceded.

Bill walked up to the door and turned the doorknob, opening the door and calling out quietly, "Hermione, what -"

Then he halted. No one was in the room apart from the coma patient Harry. No Hermione. There was no alternate exit, except….

Then Bill saw the smashed window.

…

"You're supposed to be dead!" Hermione said huskily from her place on the floor. Bellatrix had grabbed her in Harry's hospital room, but when Hermione had struggled, she took hold of the young girl and jumped from the window, activating the Portkey as they fell.

And from the sensation of the Portkey, Hermione found herself nauseas and shaking on the ground of wherever they landed. Then again, those could very well have been reactions to the woman standing before her with black-sheathed eyes. Even though it looked like they were covered, Bellatrix would see perfectly.

The woman cackled and the familiar sound made Hermione whimper. It was a sound that she had been trained to expect pain after hearing, but no pain came.

"You think baby Longbottom could kill me?" Bellatrix laughed. "You think I wouldn't have a plan if someone were to dare try and kill me?"

Hermione forced her thoughts to come together. She couldn't break down - not now. She could not have a fit or panic attack. Deep breaths, just like Bill always said. She had to imagine having him here were her, holding her, and stroking her back. It was the only way she'd survive it.

Information, Hermione thought. She needed information.

"You ordered the attack on Harry," Hermione said slowly, still focusing on her breathing.

"Of course I did!" Bellatrix snarled. "I needed him weakened enough to put him in the hospital! That way I'd know where you were and could take you, as you can see I've done." Bellatrix gave a wide smile with a low curtsy as if at the curtain call of a performance. "Killing him would have been too easy, he would have never made it to the hospital. Anyway, I wanted to keep him alive…for myself. You see, the Dark Lord absolutely refused my desire to kill Potter myself. But now I have that chance - and it will be the perfect vengeance for the destruction of my master, along with the victory of the war to come."

"You'll never win," Hermione said, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. "You didn't win the last war and you won't win this one. You're nowhere near as powerful as Voldemort and even he fell. You. Will. Lose."

"SILENCE!" Bellatrix bellowed, sending a Crucio at Hermione.

Hermione writhed on the floor, the pain exploding from deep within. Every healed scar felt brand new at the agony wracked her body and she couldn't even breathe to scream. Then the curse was suddenly lifted and she gasped for air, lying on her back with Bellatrix standing over her.

"Have you brought me here…to kill me…" Hermione wheezed slowly. "Because I beg you…do it."

"Don't be noble, it's unbecoming," Bellatrix sniffed, giving her side a rough kick that made Hermione squeal. "I won't keep you here for long. I've already done that, where's the fun in a repeat performance? No. I've brought you here so you can be my owl."

"Owl?" Hermione rasped.

"Yes. You are going to send you jolly clan of mud bloods, half-breeds, and blood traitors a message." Bellatrix bent down to look Hermione in the face with her coal-colored eyes. "I have returned and am taking my master's place. There will be another war. And we will succeed this time - by killing Harry Potter and you, eventually. Because without their messiah Potter and his brainy sidekick, their puny club is absolutely worthless."

"It won't be worthless," Hermione panted. "They have Severus and Bill and -"

"QUIET!" Bellatrix sent another swift, hard kick into Hermione's rib cage. "Severus is a traitor and is on the very top of my hit list. And as for that demi-wolf scum with the red hair -"

"Don't you dare speak of him that way!" Hermione snapped, earning another kick to the same spot on her ribs and this time she heard a sickening, wet crack that made Hermione gasp in pain.

"Does the little mudblood have a crush on the half-breed blood traitor?" Bellatrix sang in a baby voice, pouting in mock sympathy. "Oh, how sad. Too bad he'll never take you. You've been ruined, you mudblood whore. Tortured and fucked to insanity. What man - even a blood traitor - would want to fuck an animal like you whose been so thoroughly violated? In my experience, men do not like other people touching their things. And you've been more than touched, mudblood. Far more than touched." She abruptly cackled.

The tears began to slide from Hermione's eyes. Her words cut deeper than any curse or blade could.

"Perhaps," Bellatrix purred, crouching down further and running her eyes up and down Hermione's limp body, "I should have a go at you, now? For good measure?"

Hermione shivered and closed her eyes.

"Greyback was always bragging of how wonderful your body was," Bellatrix whispered, her breath hot and disgusting on Hermione's face. "How good it felt to have you struggle and writhe under him. He made it almost sound…enticing."

Hermione was trying very hard not to sob, but the waves of tears still came and very jolt of a sob made the right side of her ribcage scream in pain.

"You would deserve it, you know," Bellatrix continued factually, her voice smooth and confident. "Filth like you shouldn't have magic to begin with. Maybe if I hurt you just enough, the magic would force its way out of you. It would be worth the try."

"Then why don't you?" Hermione said through gritted teeth defiantly.

"Because I don't want to have to touch your filthy body more than I have to," Bellatrix growled. "Your dirty blood might get on me were I to get a little rough - which of course I would. I don't need your disgusting mudblood germs all over me."

Hermione didn't know if she was relieved. Maybe she was, but all she could imagine was that Bellatrix could do much more to hurt her - raping Hermione would no doubt be baby stuff in comparison to all the things Bellatrix could do to her.

"Why won't you kill me?" Hermione sobbed. "Please? I can't live like this. If you kill me now, the war will go on and I won't be able to warn anyone. _Please kill me_."

"Because that would be too easy," Bellatrix sang. "And I've already worked so hard to keep you alive, after all! It would be a shame for all my hard work to go to waste."

"I'll do it myself if you don't," Hermione threatened gravely, shaking all over. "I swear I will. I'll kill myself." And she meant it.

"No you won't," Bellatrix said confidently. "You are much too proud for that."

A big, heavy tear fell out of Hermione's eye and she shook her head, biting her lip. "Not anymore, I'm not. I might have been, before…b-before my time in the basement," she spluttered. "But I am no longer proud. I am no longer strong. I am…_nothing_."

"Indeed, you are," Bellatrix said silkily, reached over to brush Hermione's short hair from her face. "You _are _nothing. You always have been. Do you think for even a moment that with the Chosen One in a coma that anyone would even care to come looking for you? You've been on the backburner since your first year at Hogwarts, mudblood. No one cares about you, no one loves you. For all the coddling the old bastard Dumbledore gave Potter, even when you were the reason why any of his plans worked, no one took the time to thank or remember you. It's because, girl, your worth in this world is that of a ghost's. They call you when they need you to walk through walls, but every other moment you are only invisible."

Eyes shut, Hermione just listened and absorbed all of it. It was true. Bellatrix was right. No one cared and no one ever would.

"Your blood traitor boyfriend might try to find you," Bellatrix granted with a short nod. "But he will give up easily. You aren't worth the time and effort anyway, are you?"

"No, I'm not…" Hermione murmured.

"And that's why I will keep you alive," Bellatrix continued. "Because you suffer more by living than by being dead. You might as well not exist as it is, because that's how everyone treats you."

"You might as well not exist, either," Hermione whispered, "you know."

Bellatrix leaned forward more to listen to what her prisoner had to say. "And why is that, mudblood?"

"Because…" Hermione said, as soft as a breath. "You'll be dead in about a minute."

So fast it was a blur, Hermione took the wand right out of Bellatrix's hand and held it to her captor's throat.

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE REVIEW, EVEN IF YOU DO HATE ME FOR ENDING IT THERE!

Challenge: 1. Any more guesses as to how Bellatrix has returned? 2. How was Draco's "coming out" to his father, eh? 3. Where do you think Bellatrix took Hermione when they used the Portkey? 4. Hermione has Bellatrix's wand. What do you anticipate happening? 5. If you were friends with Hermione and heard her begging for death and her belief that she was nothing, what would you tell her?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	17. Chapter 17

A/N. HUZZAH! ANOTHER CHAPTER! YEY!

This will undoubtedly be most of your guys' favorite chapter ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own.

As always, there's a challenge at the end and ENJOY!

…~oOo~…

It took Draco a long time to find the courage to go back to St. Mungo's. On one hand, it would be embarrassing to go back after telling Harry everything he had - even if he had been unconscious - but also, he wanted to be there in case he woke up.

Being in love sucked, Draco thought miserably as he dragged himself to the Floo at Grimauld to return to St. Mungo's.

When Draco arrived at the hospital and made it to Harry's floor, everything was in undiluted chaos. Healers were yelling to another, medi-witches were running frantically, and it all seemed to centralize in one place. Harry's room

Panic washed through Draco and he ran for Harry's door which was clogged with Healers and medi-witches. He pushed through to find a Healer doing St. Mungo's last resort on the Chosen One - Muggle CPR.

"Potter!" Draco yelled, shoving aside Healer who was trying to keep him out. "Harry!" He pushed to his bedside across from the doctor doing CPR. "Harry, mate, you need to wake up!"

Harry's eyes remained shut and his skin was the shade of milk. There were dark rims beneath his eyes and his dry lips were drained of color.

The Healer stopped compressing Harry's chest and looked crestfallen.

"You were doing it wrong," Draco growled. I guess it was true when you wanted something done right, do it yourself.

Draco took up the chest compressions, pausing ever few moments to check the pulse. Then he tipped Harry's head back and connected their mouths to blow air into Harry's dying lungs. If the air started moving then the blood and weakening heart would as well.

When Draco imagine moments where his mouth could press to Harry's, this definitely hadn't come to mind.

"Come on, Potter!" Draco growled. "If you dare die on me, I will make _seven_ Horcruxes and then _kill myself _so I can shove your spirit _back into your body, _and then you'll have to go Hocrux hunting _all_ over again and _I know you'll hate that_!"

There was no response from Harry, so Draco continued the compressions while he himself was panting and trying to delay the stinging in his eyes.

He put his mouth to Harry's again - but this time it was less to try and save him. His efforts were fruitless, Draco knew that. Harry was dead. This time he brought his mouth down onto Harry's to say goodbye. A tear rolled over Draco's cheek and down his unshaven jaw.

It was full seconds before Draco realized that the mouth under his was kissing back.

…~oOo~…

Hermione picked herself off her feet, the wand always trained on Bellatrix who looked more solemn and sane than she'd ever been before. Hermione's ribs were exploding with pain so bad that stars erupted in her eyes, but she just blinked hard and shook it off. She needed to be focused. She needed to end this.

"How did you come back?" Hermione asked with deadly calm. She just had to keep telling herself that she was the one with the upper hand now, even if she did feel as small as a mouth and was in excruciating pain.

"I took one out of my Master's book, of course," Bellatrix purred, her black eyes cold as ice. "They all say you're so brilliant - how could you have not figured that out?"

Hermione swallowed. "So…a Horcrux? Do you have more than one?"

"Unfortunately I did not have the time to make a second or third," she hissed.

"So…what was it? Was it an artifact or -"

"My husband was good for one thing alone and that was holding onto it for me," Bellatrix purred silkily, obviously not as intimidated as Hermione hoped her to be. Hermione was shaking hard and Bellatrix laughed. "You want death?" the crazy witch asked. "You have a wand now, nothing's stopping you from taking your own life like you seemed so set on doing only moments ago."

"Don't worry," Hermione said, two tears slipping down her nose and chin. "I will. But not until you're dead first! _Avada Kedavra_-"

"_Protego_!" Bellatrix shouted, a wand appearing in her hand. Hermione noticed quickly that it was her wand, she must had dropped it when the Porykey'd.

Hermione through up a shield and deflected it. Bellatrix cackled gleefully. "Thought you had the power, did you, girly?" Bellatrix said with a sickening grin. "Thought you could kill me?"

"I can and I will!" Hermione snapped, throwing another curse at Bellatrix.

Dueling with one another's wands was difficult. The curses were weaker and slower and the shields weren't as strong.

Only one curse could do the damage Hermione wanted without prolonging it all. "Avada Kedavra!" she hissed again, a green light erupted from the end of the wand and hurling towards Bellatrix. It was deflected. Hermione repeated it again and Bellatrix jumped to the side.

While Hermione realized she had the upper hand, and the wand in her hand was doing well offensively, Bellatrix was very successful in playing the defense.

Finally Hermione saw a gap and whipped out the first thing that came to mind, a curse that she had fallen on her ears so many times, "_Crucio_!"

It hit Bellatrix like a missile, the woman crumpling to the ground and seizing, but biting back screams.

"How does it feel, Bella?" Hermione asked, still crying. "Tell me!"

Bellatrix groaned, the pain still wracking her body.

"I have half a mind to do the same thing to you that you did to Alice and Frank Longbottom," Hermione said with the writhing body on the floor, picking up her own wand that had fallen out of the fallen girl's hand. Bellatrix was biting her lips so hard that she broke skin and red began coating her lips and dribbling down her chin. "But that would mean care at St. Mungo's and you deserve Azkaban. Actually, no," Hermione mused, "you deserve the Kiss. But more than that…you deserve death."

Hermione broke Bellatrix's wand in half and leveled her own at Bellatrix's chest as she lie there in a lump, quivering.

Hermione intoned, "_Avada _-"

"Hermione, don't!" a voice screamed from the behind them.

Hermione looked behind her to find Bill, running towards her, and taking her wand hand and pointing it down. "Hermione, you aren't a murderer. This woman, however _is_. And she deserves worse than death. The Dementor's Kiss can deliver that," Bill panted, obviously having run pretty far.

Bewildered, Hermione asked, "How did you find me?"

"When you left the hospital," he said slowly, "they put a small tracer in your arm - in case of emergency. Snape signed the consent for it."

Hermione was very thankful for Snape.

Bellatrix, lying on the floor, cackled, her face stretching into a lunatic's smile.

"Lovers reunited," she laughed. "How _sweet_."

"You will shut up!" Hermione snapped viciously, pointing her wand at the woman again. "Or do you _want _another Crucio?"

"Hermione," Bill said quietly. "Please. This isn't you."

"Bill…" Hermione rasped. "What if she isn't given the Kiss? What if she's only send to Azkaban? A place she's already broken out of once? I can't sleep as long as she's alive." Hermione gave a hard sob. "I won't be able to live as long as she's on this earth."

"She's right you know," Bellatrix said with a smile. "As long as I'm alive, I'll always be hunting for her. Azkaban and even the Kiss will not prevent me from doing that."

Bellatrix's eyes and Hermione's locked and there was an instant agreement between them. Their war would not end until one died. It was almost like Harry and Tom Riddle's prophecy - one cannot survive while the other lived. It wasn't the way the world was meant to be.

They had disrupted the balance. By Bellatrix returning and being allowed to live - it wasn't what nature had planned. Bellatrix should have been dead in the dungeons beneath Hogwarts months ago when Neville brought her down. No one should be able to make Horcruxes and live.

"Bill," Hermione said gravely, "I'm going to need you to leave the room for a moment."

Bill saw the decision in Hermione's eyes and said, "Hermione, love, you don't have to -"

"Yes, I do," Hermione declared, voice void of emotion.

"Then I'm not leaving."

"Yes you are!" Hermione snarled.

"Why?" he demanded.

"_Because I don't want you to see me like this_!"

"Don't you see?" Bellatrix whispered, pouting mockingly at the pair. "It's because she loves you, half-breed."

"Shut up!" Hermione shouted again, the anger rising in her. "_What did I tell about speaking of him?_"

"Hermione," Bill said gently. "I'm staying. No matter what."

The girl with the short brown bushy hair and scars adorning her body everywhere gave a sob, pointing her wand at the witch lying rigid on the floor in front of her. Hermione murmured, "Avada Kedavra."

But nothing happened. No green light. Bellatrix's chest was still rising and falling.

"But…what happened?" Hermione demanded, panicking.

Bill sighed and came up behind her with a face fill with grief and sadness so deep it must have hit his soul. "It's because," he explained softly, "you don't mean it. You need you mean it. She's defenseless and you're too good, too pure and fair, to mean it."

Bill slowly but confidently took his own wand from his pocket, trained it on Bellatrix without a single shutter. He didn't even speak the words for the famous green flash to shoot from his wand and hit Bellatrix in the chest.

Bellatrix's chest stopped moving.

…~oOo~…

Harry was sitting up in his bed, looking healthier than he ever had before. The remarkable recovery astounded every Healer working at St. Mungo's. Harry Potter should have been dead by now. But then again, Harry had a knack for never dying when he was supposed to.

"The Boy Who Lived Thrice," Draco murmured amusedly from his chair next to Harry's bed. He took in the boy's flushed face, crazy black hair, and shining green eyes. The two boys' hands were clasped on top of the sheets of the sickbed. "I'm sure the wizarding world will be shocked once again. Not even Voldemort himself defeated death more than twice."

"You're right." Harry nodded, considering. "Then again…he never had the incentive of Draco Malfoy offering the wash dishes the Muggle way." His emerald eyes glittered knowingly.

Draco's smile abandoned his face and he swallowed. "You heard that…all of it?"

"Every last word," Harry said with a grin. "You must really be crazy about me."

"I was having a rare dramatic moment," Draco dismissed with a wave of his hand. "When someone you know is dying, you have to try your hardest to say something dramatic otherwise what would be the point of people visiting the patient?"

Harry just smirked and said, "Did you really mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"What you whispered in my ear before kissing me."

"That I would make seven Horcruxes and -"

"No, you prat," Harry said, frustrated, smacking Draco's hand. "The _first _time. Did you mean that?"

Draco paused, but nodded.

Harry's smile grew. "I was hoping you did."

"I'm afraid," Draco said slowly, drawing his hand from Harry's, "that it doesn't matter, though?"

"Doesn't matter?" Harry demanded. "Of course it mattered! It mattered everything in the world!"

Draco stood from his seat and looked down at Harry as expressionless as he could manage. "We aren't good for one another, Harry. And I'm sure you have someone else you've been chasing after -"

"It was you, Draco!" Harry hissed, looking seriously pissed off. "It was you that I was interested in, you're the one I've been 'chasing'."

"Be that as it may," Draco said dismissively, even if his wanted to bust from his chest. "There are people out there who are better for you. Dumbledore said it himself. I'm Grindelwald and you're him - and no matter how much we care for each other it will never work. We're destructive to one another by nature, Potter."

"Don't pull that surname shit with me, Draco -"

"I'm stopping this before you get hurt."

"Even if it hurts you in the process?" Harry demanded, sitting up higher in the bed. "Don't lie - I can see it in your eyes! Don't you _want_ to be happy, Draco?"

That's when something in Draco snapped. "What I _want_," Draco snarled, "is to forget any of this insane situation ever happened. I _want _my Aunt Bellatrix to stay dead. And I _want_ you in my bed every night. But as of late, with current circumstances as they are, all of these things - including your bloody '_happiness_' - seem pretty fucking unlikely!" With that, Draco stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Harry stared at his hands angrily for only a second before he decided he was fucking sick of Draco, his angst, and is storming off. Harry leaped from the bed, not bothering with his slippers, and marched after Draco in his hospital gown.

"YOU STOP RIGHT THERE, DRACO MALFOY!" Harry screamed down the hall.

A lot of the bystanders wee expecting a duel from the two notorious enemies and watched on with caution.

Draco slowly turned around and looked at Harry in shock and fury. He bellowed, "ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? GET BACK IN YOUR BED, RIGHT NOW, POTTER! YOU'VE JUST COME BACK FROM THE DEAD, YOU IDIOT!"

Harry didn't respond, only ran forward.

A lot of nurses and Healers cringed, waiting for the wands to be drawn. They had not expected, however, that Harry Potter would run at Draco Malfoy not to do harm, but to grab his head pull him into a very deep kiss.

Draco's lips were hot on Harry's and it didn't take Draco even a second to return to kiss. Their hungry mouths began battling for dominance. Draco kissed hard and fast and when he lodged his hands into Harry's messy black hair and gave a small tug, the Chosen One couldn't help but let a moan slip from his throat.

Their lungs burned and they had to break apart to gasp for air.

The Healers were all stunned speechless. One secretary even took a picture without anyone noticing.

"Now…" Draco said with a swallow. "You…have to get back into bed."

"No," Harry said with a smirk. "I'm not getting into any bed unless it's yours."

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

Challenge: 1. Do you think I'll ever tell you exactly what Draco said in Harry's ear? ;) 2. Bellatrix is dead! For good! What will happen with her followers? 3. What did you think of Bill being the one to kill Bellatrix? 4. What was your favorite part and favorite line? 5. What do you think was the cause for Harry's miraculous recovery?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	18. Chapter 18

A/N. HULLO. CHAPTER HERE! I'm sorry it took so long to update! I moved into my FOMB (Father Of My Baby)'s apartment and then I started my new job, which is absolutely crazy because I work ten hours a day, 6 days a week - so I've been coming home absolutely exhausted. And to top it off, I got a lovely surprise this morning - morning sickness. Awesome. Loving life -_-

Anyway, as always there's a Challenge at the end. A lot of you are going to hate me for this chapter.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

Enjoy!

…~oOo~…

Bill has to carry Hermione out of the Shrieking Shack because of her shattered ribs. He was very careful not to jostle her too much. One of her hands was curled into his shirtsleeve, her knuckles white from gripping in pain.

"I'm going to have to Apparate, love," Bill said gently, sounding deeply apologetic.

Hermione whimpered and tucked her face into his neck, shaking her head.

"We have to, 'Mione," he said softly. "I'm so sorry." Bill was about to take out his wand, but stopped when she spoke.

"She was right, you know…" she murmured. She sounded soul-broken.

"Hermione," she said heavily, "whatever she said to you, it was only her playing mind game -"

"No," she rasped, cutting him off. "What she said about me not wanting you there…Because I…" She took a deep breath and winced at the pain it caused in her chest. "I didn't want you there because I…I love you."

Bill's heart was ecstatic, but he had a feeling she meant in the same way she told Harry and Ron that she loved them. "Hermione, dear, I -"

"No," she hissed firmly. "I _love_ you. In the way I should have loved Ron and in the way Draco loves Harry." She paused, looking confused for a moment. "I didn't realize it until that dream…I dreamed that we -"

"Kissed?" Bill finished for her, his pulse quickening with every one of her woods.

Her eyes grew wide. "How did you know?"

"Because it wasn't a dream, Hermione," he said carefully, not knowing how she'd react. "It really happened - on your birthday."

The confusion intensified in Hermione's eyes like she was staring at a difficult Arithmancy equation. "But you never let on -"

"I didn't want to upset you," he explained. "I didn't want you to regret it or for things to get awkward."

Hermione's cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. "Bill…you really are stupid sometimes."

Bill snorted a small laugh and said, "Yeah. I know that." He took a moment and cleared his throat. "Hermione?"

"Yes?" she asked weakly from against his neck.

"I love you too."

And he felt her lips at his neck curve into a smile. Bill smiled as well, reaching for his wand and froze.

"Wait," he said, baffled. "In _what _way does Draco love Harry?"

…

That night at Grimauld they held an Order meeting after Hermione drank her weight in potions (not willingly, of course) to heal her bones. She was so beyond tired, she was leaning into Bill, her hand playing absently with his hair. Bill was enjoying the feeling and letting her drift on his shoulder.

There was a lot to talk about. Bill and Hermione only gave the absolutely necessary facts about what happened in the Shack but left most of the more disturbing things out. That and what happened afterwards - their confessions. Which Bill was still confused about where they stood, but was okay as long as she knew that she felt the same way.

Bill saw what Hermione had meant about Draco and Harry too - he just had to look for the signs. Draco would bend to whisper in Harry's ear and they stood very close, their feet turned toward one another. At times, Harry would brush the back of his hand to Draco's and the blonde would have a barely-there smile at the touch.

Bill smirked. He was happy for them. Even if Draco Malfoy was a right arse at times, as long as he was good to Harry, that was all that mattered.

"…point is, that even with Bellatrix dead for now, we need to find her Horcrux so that she can't come back," Arthur Weasley concluded. "Especially since we believe the reason for Harry's recovery is because her magic was fueling his coma. We don't want a repeat of that. So…any ideas anyone?"

Hermione said sleepily, "She said it was with her husband, and he's in Azkaban. It should be easy to find in his cell."

"But how do we destroy it this time?" Harry inquired.

"I'll take the Sword of Gryffindor out of its case tonight," McGonagall said with a nod.

"Who wants to go to Azkaban?" Harry asked everybody, not sounding exactly thrilled.

No one said anything, and most didn't move - except Hermione. She was the one who shot her hand right up in the air frantically like a grade schooler teacher's pet who wants to erase the blackboard.

Bill was already shaking his head. "Absolutely not. Haven't you had enough with this Bellatrix insanity?"

"Which is exactly why I have to be the one to go," Hermione answered, determined. "I will find the Horcrux and I will destroy the Horcrux and then we can all sleep at night." She stood up, looker more like the Old Hermione than ever. Her shoulders were back, jaw stubbornly set, and with clear eyes not muddled with instability. "I'm going tonight. With Severus."

Everyone looked to Snape who was raising his eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but who said I wanted to go to the darkest, most awful prison in the world - one which I've narrowly escaped having to live in more than once?"

"You know Rodolphus Lestrange," Hermione said sternly. "You'll know if he's hiding something and when all else fails you can read his mind."

Severus Snape sighed, but everyone knew he secretly had been planning on going all along. He would never dare let Hermione go to Azkaban by herself and he wanted to see this out, but Snape liked to give people a hard time. Old habits die hard.

"When are we leaving?" he asked, faux-reluctantly.

"Right now." And before anyone could stop her, Hermione was out the door, wearing nothing but a t-shirt, jeans, and…well, I'm sure you all know what she was wearing on her feet: Nothing.

Snape stood up and began trailing after. Bill stood as well, but the dark haired potions master held up a hand.

"You are going to stay here," Snape intoned.

"Like fuck I am," Bill snorted.

"_William_!" Molly shrieked chidingly.

"Hermione didn't ask you - therefore you stay," Snape explained. "There is obviously a reason why she does not want you there." And with a swirl of black cloak, Snape left through the door behind Hermione.

There was a drawn out silence before McGonagall stood up, announcing that she would return soon with the sword. Molly went to the kitchen to start preparing supper and Ginny started flirting with Draco, much to Harry's annoyance - which everyone misinterpreted except Bill and Draco. Most would think the anger came from his ex flirting with his roommate, the select two knew it was because a girl was flirting with his new boyfriend.

It was like a soap opera, Bill thought with a smile.

Without warning, Ron dropped down in the chair next to Bill. "What's going on?"

Bill sighed. He always knew his brother was lacking in the intelligence department, but really the concept of the meeting wasn't _that_ hard to follow - even for Ronald. Even so, Bill began saying very slowly, "Well, we think Lestrange has the Horcrux and -"

"Not that, you prat," Ron hissed. "With you and Hermione."

"Nothing," Bill dismissed quickly. His brother had a very short fuse and Bill knew that he'd freak out if Bill told him that he and Hermione were…well, were in love.

"That's not what it looked like," the younger redhead grumbled.

"You know how Hermione is," Bill said, trying to sound dismissive. "She and I live together and she trusts me and we're friends. And with the way she is, she just likes to…cuddle me."

Ron examined his brother skeptically, hunting for any hint of a lie. But with five younger brothers and a little sister, Bill had mastered the art of lying before Ron was a live.

"Alright…" Ron permitted hesitantly. "Just…don't get your hopes up, okay? She broke up with me because she knows she can't be with anyone romantically."

"What do you mean by that?" Bill asked.

"She said it herself. And we all know it." Ron lowered his voice. "She's just not stable enough to have a boyfriend or husband. And she never will be. It's sad, really."

The oldest Weasley brother paused for a moment. "She could change someday though," he tried casually.

"I'm not sure about that, brother," Ron said with a pitying expression. "She's been pretty messed up."

"Yes, but Hermione pulls through," Bill said. "She always does."

Ron gave a suspicious look. "Are you sure you don't feel anything for Hermione?"

"I never claimed I didn't," Bill said tersely. "I only said there's nothing between us. There's a world of difference."

"So you do have feelings for her?" Ron's eyes narrowed further.

"Of course I do - who wouldn't," Bill hissed. "You're not the only one with good taste in women, you know."

"You just have a blood damsel-in-distress complex," Ron said harshly. "You don't actually love her. No one can. She isn't lovable anymore - it just isn't possible."

"Not possible?" Bill said, voice raising. Everyone in the room got quieter at the sudden tension between the brothers. "What do you fucking know? Are you suddenly an expert on love? Because last I remembered all your relationships have failed."

"Oh, and your track record is better than mine?" Ron scoffed. "You're divorced. Your wife left you. What does that say about you?"

"At least I know what commitment is," Bill snapped. "You're a child, Ron. You're immature and needy."

"Your girlfriend is immature and needy!" Ron shouted. "She's _sick_, Bill!"

"It's funny," Bill said snidely. "Even if she's sick, she's still one hell of a lot more mature than you."

"You can never marry her," Ron growled. "You'll be left wanting and watching from afar if you don't give up and get over her! Do you want to pine for the rest of your existence just because the girl you fell for is _crazy_?"

So fast it was a blur, Bill cracked a fist into his brothers nose. "You don't talk about her that way, understand?"

"You're blind, Bill," Ron said coldly, touching his nose tenderly. "You don't realize. You've always known what you wanted - it's stupid of you to throw it all away over one girl."

"How am I throwing anything away?"

"How are you _not_?" Ron shouted.

"_She loves me too_!"

"Well, you're fucked, then, aren't you?" Ron bellowed. "Now you're forced to know - forever - that you feel the same way but can never be together! Even if you can handle her, even if you do love one another, even if she somehow levels out - she can't give you what you've wanted for as long as I can remember!"

"You don't know a thing about me!"

"Yes, I do, Bill."

"Oh, yeah?" Bill challenged. "What is it that I've always wanted, huh?"

"_A big family, you idiot_! _Hermione can't have children_!"

Every muscle was so rigid inside Bill that he couldn't move if he wanted to. Everyone watched on with petrified expressions.

Bill finally found it in him to speak, but it was low and croaky. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not," Ron said firmly. "She told me when we were together - the only other person who knows is Snape. Don't you see, Bill? Hermione's injuries are more than mental."

"I still don't believe you," Bill said.

"Well, you should," the voice from the door said simply. "Because it's true."

Bill turned to find Hermione. She was deadpan and one hand was closed tight at her side.

Ron said, looking guilty, "You're back -"

"Soon?" Hermione finished for him, her eyes cold. "Yeah. We apparated. It was easy enough to find." Hermione opened her hand and dropped a little golden thing in the table. "It was his wedding band." Everything she said was mechanic. "I'll be up in the library. Just call me when McGonagall gets here."

Hermione walked towards the stairs, straight-backed and rigid. Everyone was still looked pretty stunned and Luna looked sad (which was hard to do) while Bill looked after Hermione, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. Anger at Ron, sadness for Hermione who had to walk in on their conversation. Ron was looking absolutely miserable.

"The one time she decides to apparate…" George mumbled incredulously. "How unlucky can a guy get?"

"You're such an idiot, Ron," Harry said.

Ron dropped down into his chair again and cradled his face in his hands. "I didn't mean to say that…I really didn't."

"Well, you did," Bill said venomously. "I better go talk to her -"

"I'd suggest you not," Snape's voice said from the corner. He probably just magically appeared there. He did that often. "She is undoubtedly upset. And murderous." He turned to go, but stopped and then said, "Mr. Weasley?"

Ron knew exactly which Weasley Snape was speaking to. Hesitantly, he said, "Yes?"

"I just may kill you for this," Snape said calmly. And then he was walking out of the room and towards the stairs.

…

"I'm sure it doesn't change anything," Snape promised.

"But it does!" Hermione sobbed, pacing. "You heard Ron - Bill wants a big family! I can't give him that! No…" She was shaking her head. "No, I can't do this. I've got to move out of Shell Cottage. I have to make sure he has room to find someone else."

"Hermione, don't be ridiculous -"

"You're saying that if I really wanted to move out, that you wouldn't let me stay with you at Hogwarts?" she asked, sounding a little desperate.

"Of course I'd let you," Snape said lowly. "You know I'd love for you to stay there, but I don't think running away from your problems is the most intellectual tactic."

"I can't…" Hermione took a very deep breath. "I can't…do this. I can't be with him. No matter how much I want to. I don't know if I'd even be able to bring myself to…ugh." He face turned bright red. "I don't think I could ever…you know…"

"Engage in intercourse?" Snape inquired, raising an eyebrow. He looked very bored by this subject.

"I guess that would be the technical name for it," Hermione said. "But, yeah. I'm just so…scared."

"I have heard," Snape said, "that if you trust someone it's easier."

"You've heard or experienced?" Hermione asked.

"Sex is completely different for men than women," Snape answered. "Women need that trust. Men, however, do not."

"Severus, have you ever -"

"Yes, Hermione," Snape said with an eye roll. "I have."

"Well, I haven't," Hermione continued. "Not consensually, at least. And every time I think about sex I get a really horrible feeling in my stomach and I want to puke and everything hurts…"

"Hermione," Snape said with his lecturing voice. "If you don't mind my asking…how do you feel when you imagine engaging in intercourse with someone you trust…like Bill, for example. Because I would bet money that when you think of coitus you think of…"

"Greyback," Hermione finished weakly, her voice cracking.

"But, Hermione," Snape continued educationally, "Greyback raped you. Making love is a world of difference, because the other person matters. And when you want to stop, they stop. And they listen to you and take care of you."

"I know Bill would never hurt me," Hermione said firmly. "But I'm afraid that I'll have…flashbacks. I mean, ever since I emptied my memories, it's been better. I can't remember too much. But still I'm afraid they'll come to the surface when I'm in that position."

"They've been removed," Snape said confidently. "They won't resurface."

"But, still, this conversation is pointless." She tossed her hands up. "I can't have kids, Bill wants kids."

"Are you forgetting exactly what the doctor said?" Snape said calmly. "He said you have a ninety-percent chance you can't conceive. That is not one-hundred percent, is it?"

"If someone told me," Hermione said, "that I had a ten percent of living if I got on a plane - well, guess what. I wouldn't get on the plane."

"This has nothing to do with Muggle travel devices."

"I can't get pregnant, the end."

"What about adoption, then?"

"It's different!" Hermione snapped. "The Weasley family prides itself on its red hair and its fertility! If I can't have ginger babies, then there's no point in pursuing Bill. Point closed. I'm not going to even bother with this conversation anymore." She tried to walk out, but Snape blocked her path.

"Do you honestly believe Bill will care that you cannot carry his spawn?" Snape demanded, eyes narrowed.

"He might not care now," Hermione said, "but he will in the future. And once he realizes that he does…I don't want to be there to be heartbroken."

…

The next day Hermione moved out of Shell Cottage. Bill watched on as she packed from her doorway, neither of them saying a word. He didn't want to attempt at a conversation - he knew that she'd be uncooperative. He tried to convince himself that she needed this - space, air to breathe, time to think. But really he knew that this was the end of them being together - ending before they could start.

But he also knew she was reluctant to leave. After all, she was packing by hand when a flick of her wand would have had her out of the door an hour ago.

Once she finished packing every piece of clothes she looked up at Bill, that funny look on her face when she really want to say something, but she never did. She just shrunk her things magically and tucked them into her beaded bag before walking straight past him, out of her room and the house.

She Apparated in the yard.

Bill was trying to be proud that she got over her fear of Apparition, but he was too overwhelmed by sadness. He wanted to run after her, but Hermione was delicate.

As if to purposefully run salt in his own wounds, he went back up to her room. Her scent still clung to everything and he took in a deep breath of it. The same aroma that was on everything in the house was strong in that small area.

He decided that he'd double check to see if she left everything.

When he opened the closet, there on the floor, left behind deliberately, were all of Hermione's shoes.

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE!

Challenge: 1. Are you sad? 2. What did you originally think the Horcrux was? 3. What do you predict for Hermione and Bill? 4. Where do you think Hermione is going to live? If you think it's somewhere other than Snape's. 5. Do you understand how Hermione feels? 6. What do you want to happen from here on out?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	19. Chapter 19

A/N. HULLO! I know, TWO CHAPTERS UP IN AS MANY HOURS. Crazy hehe. I was just really eager to write this.

Okay, guys this is the second to last chapter. Next is the Epilogue. I know, it's really sad. And to make it worse, there is no Challenge for this chapter. At the end, I just want you to review and tell me how you feel about this story and what you hope the Epilogue to have. Also, your favorite character and favorite part overall.

Disclaimer: I don't own.

…~oOo~…

THREE MONTHS LATER

Bill hadn't seen Hermione since she moved out of Shell Cottage and left her internship at Gringotts, but now he could see her through the crowds of dancing people at his brother's wedding. Luna and George had lost their plan for a very short engagement and had a compromise with Molly that they at least give it a couple more months to prepare. Of course, the second Molly measured Luna for her wedding gown she'd realized what the rush for a wedding was and absolutely freaked out that Luna was pregnant. It was a good and bad freak-out - one where she snuggled Luna lovingly and rubbed her belly while simultaneously screaming at George.

But they'd tied the knot and the reception reminded Bill a lot of his and Fleur's. Well, except the lack of invading Death Eaters, that is. And Bill was praying that George had better luck at marriage than he had anyway.

With the happy looks in the ear-less wonder and Loony's eyes, he could tell they'd make it.

But Hermione had been what was distracting him since the start of the wedding.

She was beautiful, wearing a forest green dress with a square neckline and an A-line skirt. She'd started out in heels, but they were now discarded in a corner somewhere.

When Bill heard that Hermione had taken to living with Harry and Draco, she felt sort of bad for her - she'd have to deal with their silly lovey-dovey stuff constantly.

Bill looked over at the two men dancing together as he thought of them. Draco's suit was black on black on black, but Harry's was navy blue and they were smiling at one another. Oblivious to the people around them, they ducked in for a kiss. It wasn't especially deep or sexual, but tender and sweet and full of love.

Bill was instantly jealous. Even more so when he looked back at Hermione who'd coerced Snape into dancing with her. Snape was tall and lean and Hermione was petite, but as they danced Bill could see that their height difference did not help Hermione's two left feet. It was adorable in an endearing way, watching Hermione stumble and then Snape stop and reposition her feet for her before beginning again, her mouthing numbers to stay with the beat of the music. Her counting was for naught, but Snape showed the utmost patience with her - something that no one had ever seen Snape have, ever.

It had taken Bill a month to come to terms that Hermione wasn't coming back to the Cottage. It took him another month to stop the dreams. And a month later, only a few days before now as Bill was at the wedding, he finally accepted the goblins' pressuring for him to return to Egypt.

Already Bill was packed and ready to go, but had stalled on his departure long enough to attend his brother's wedding and maybe see Hermione once more.

Bill waited for the song to end and watched Hermione go to sit down. She didn't, though. Instead he watched her whisper something to Snape, which he nodded, and the flushed, warm-looking Hermione walked out of the reception tent for some fresh air.

Bill stood up, straight his jacket and waist coat and followed after.

He found her out in the garden, staring up at the full moon. Bill looked at it with a wry smile. He may not go through the Change, but he had the symptoms. Hypersensitivity and heightened senses - for example, he could smell Hermione from several yards away. But that may be because he could detect Hermione's scent even if she was oceans away - at least, he was counting on that for when he left the next day.

"Hello, Hermione," he said just loud enough for her to here.

She looked over at him and gave a gentle smile. "Hello, Bill. How are you?"

"I've been better," he confessed, nodding simply at the moon. He didn't want to tell the whole truth, that she was the reason for how off he was.

"Oh," she said, nodding in acknowledgement. "That's too bad. But are you at least having fun at the wedding?"

Bill shrugged. "Yeah. I'm happy for them. It's nice to see George smiling."

All Hermione answered was with a nod.

Bill looked out at the garden again, just for something to do. The moonlight flowers were blooming and the little creek babbled. The stone path they stood on was glistening. Lanterns were strung through the trees, shining dimly. It was beautiful.

But Bill knew nothing in the garden was as beautiful as Hermione.

Her short, bouncy curling hair was pinned back from her face and the moon gave her skin a very subtle, ivory glow. Her eyes were darker and her lips pinker, her feet whiter. Standing in a beautiful, body-clinging and flowing dress with no shoes gave her an ethereal, almost fairy-like beauty to her. She was special and perfect.

And Bill knew this was the last time he would allow himself to admire her. He'd already made a pact with himself. The next day, the second he was in Egypt, he was moving on. Three months was afar too long to long for someone. Especially when that someone was obviously not coming back.

"I have news," Bill said, forcing himself to interrupt the silence. "I'm heading back to Egypt."

Hermione hesitated for a quarter of a second, but then smiled. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Wow," she said, still smiling. "That's great, Bill. I'm so happy for you."

Bill was brought back to the day where Hermione found the letter from Gringotts asking him to return to Egypt and had a fit because she believed she'd been holding him back. He wondered if she was remembering that day as well.

"Thanks," Bill said breezily, trying to keep the conversation light. "What have you been up to?"

"I was accepted for an Apprenticeship," she answered.

"Wow, brilliant. Where?"

"At Hogwarts. As Transfiguration professor. McGonagall is going to stop teaching and focus on being Headmistress next year and I'm taking up the post," she explained.

"That's…amazing," Bill said, meaning it. She was really getting on her feet…without him. That part sort of stung, but he smiled. "You'll be fantastic, I'm sure."

She blushed and said, "Thanks." She stared down at her feet.

They took another long sabbatical of silence, just enjoying the night.

Bill stepped forward to give Hermione a hug goodbye, but then he stopped when he saw a drop of water fall from her face and onto the stone path. He looked closer and saw the tears coming down from her chocolate eyes.

From her peripheral vision she saw him and chuckled at herself. "You probably think I'm silly. But, it's just…I'm going to miss you." And she turned to burrow herself in his chest, hugging him tight around the ribs.

Resting his cheek against the crown of her head, Bill hugged her back and kissed her hair. "I'm going to miss you too."

…

Draco and Harry were still dancing. Draco was in the lead, mostly because he was raised in a pureblood family where dance lessons lasted until well after your feet started bleeding. So as Draco was graceful and talented, Harry was trying his hardest to follow along and at the very least not have a repeat of the Yule Ball in Fourth Year. Clumsiness was bad as it is without stepping on his boyfriend's toes.

"So, do you ever think about this?" Draco inquired casually.

"About what?"

"Weddings. Marriage."

Harry raised an eyebrow and laughed. "We've been together for three months. What are you in a hurry for?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I mean, just in general. Not necessarily soon or with me. Just…starting a family has always been my duty in life. You know, the Mafloy bloodline is up to me and all that."

"I forgot about that," Harry admitted, his smile falling. "You're an only child."

"Yes," Draco said casually, "and thank God for it. Because now the Malfoy family can die with me."

Harry paused. "You know…if we were to ever…adopt, or whatever…I wouldn't have a problem with them having your last name."

Draco beamed victoriously. "So you _have_ thought about marriage."

"Not necessarily," Harry said slowly. "But I do think about forever."

"You have defeated Death three times," Draco said, giving him a blunt look. "I know you've thought about marriage. You'd be an idiot if you didn't. And I don't date idiots."

Laughing, Harry squeezed Draco's hand. "Alright, so I have. But that doesn't mean I want to get married right now."

A very Slytherin smile came upon Draco's face. "I think I could change that."

"Oh really?" Harry challenged. "And how do you plan on managing that?"

Draco gave a hardy, happy laugh and held Harry tighter. "You'll just have to wait and see. You know…I'm starting to be really happy that I took Granger's advice."

"What advice?" Harry asked, brow furrowed.

"When we were leaving Shell Cottage that day around lunch, Hermione whispered something to me. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said curiously. "What did she say?"

Draco smiled. "Are you sure you want to here?"

"Obviously."

"She said, and I quote 'Harry is even gayer than you. You need to kiss him soon or else he's going to die. So try hard.'"

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"Not even a little."

"But…how did she know you were gay?"

"I'm going to guess," Draco said, grinning, "that is has something to do with the fact she caught Blaise and I together in a corner of the school when she was a Prefect. But of course, I don't think she remembered that specifically after her incident, but it probably floated around in her subconscious."

Harry's emerald eyes were gigantic behind his glasses. "You and Blaise were together?"

"Yep."

"But why were you snogging in a random part of the castle when you shared a room?"

"I really don't think Theo would have appreciated it if we were feeling each other up in the bed next to his," Draco answered with a shrug.

"But I thought I was your first boyfriend?" Harry said, trying to conceal his disappointment.

"But you're my first love, isn't that enough?"

"No."

"Well, you're going to have to get over it."

"Did you and Blaise ever…you know…" Harry wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Draco raised an eyebrow and gave him a "duh" look.

Harry blushed. "Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. I have absolutely no experience, but you've shagged tons."

"I didn't necessarily say 'tons'."

"Whatever," Harry dismissed, scowling. "Have you ever with a girl?"

Draco nodded.

"UGH!" Harry dropped his boyfriend's hand and walked away towards their table, Draco close behind.

"Why does it bother you so much?" Draco demanded. "I've loved you since I was twelve, does that count for anything?"

"Not when you obviously didn't love me so much that you couldn't bring yourself to sleep with every gender imaginable!"

"I've never slept with the Giant Squid, if that helps."

Harry glowered darkly. "No, Draco Malfoy, that most certainly does not help."

Draco massaged his temples. "I have a very good feeling that I'm sleeping on the couch tonight."

"You don't have to be a bloody Seer to predict that."

…

There Draco was, lying on the couch. Of course, Grimauld Place had plenty of rooms, but Harry made it very clear that if he woke up and found Draco anywhere except the couch that he'd be dead. It was meant as a punishment.

Draco dragged his hands down his face. Harry was starting to remind him very much of his mother. This was something Narcissa would do to Lucius, back in the day. Oh the irony. Draco managed to turn out gay and he still was doomed to have a relationship like his parents.

Fuck life.

With a huff, it was two a.m. when Draco decided he wasn't going to tolerate this. He swung out of the couch and marched up the stairs to his boyfriend's room.

He knocked heavily on the door, making a loud BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.

Harry opened the door, hair all over the place, blinking owlishly without his glasses. He squinted to make out the blonde's figure and said, "Draco? What the fuck are you doing up? It's two in the morning!"

The Slytherin crossed his arms. "I refuse to sleep on the couch."

"Well, too fucking bad because you're not sleeping in here," Harry yawned.

"Please."

"No."

Draco groaned. "Come on, Harry, I said I was sorry."

The Boy Who Lived shrugged. "I don't care."

"What are you most bothered by? The fact that I slept with other people before you or that I have no shame over it."

"Both."

"You really aren't going to make this easy, are you?" Draco growled, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head and grabbed the doorknob. "Now, goodnight!"

"You don't understand, Harry," Draco said, stepping forward to block the door from closing. "I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"Because you're not next to me."

"Boo-hoo," Harry mocked, pushing the door harder, but Draco added a hand to keep it open effortlessly. "Draco, what is it going to take to get you back to the couch?"

"Nothing will make me go back there."

"Fine!" Harry exclaimed, exhausted. "Then go to another room - I don't bloody care!"

"But I need to sleep in this room."

With a dark look, Harry walked back to the bed, lifted his pillow, his wand, and his glasses and in his arms and walked out the door, brushing past Draco.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Draco commanded.

"You said you need to sleep in that room - well, now it's yours. I'm going to use the guest room." Harry turned to walk away.

Draco snatched Harry's hand and pulled him back. "You're staying here. With me. In _our _room."

Harry's stomach tingled at the authoritative edge to his boyfriend's voice. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I'm breaking out the rope."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry said, "That sounds suspiciously kinky."

"Don't flatter yourself. Just get in the bed before I tie you there."

A migraine was forming right behind his scar and Harry took a deep breath. "Fine. But if you make the smallest move to touch me, I am going to hex you all the way into your father's cell in Azkaban."

"Fair enough," Draco agreed and they entered the room.

Lying in the bed, Harry was on his side, facing the wall. Draco was on his back, staring at the ceiling. Neither was speaking or sleeping.

Finally, Draco said, "I'm sorry."

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it."

"That doesn't make sense. If I hadn't done it, I wouldn't have anything to be sorry about, therefore eliminating any reason to be sorry."

"Just…" Harry sighed. "Shut up. I'm trying to sleep and your psychobabble isn't helping."

They were silent again.

"Harry?" Draco whispered.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, what now?" Harry shouted.

Draco cleared his throat. "Will you marry me?"

…

The Egyptian sun was hot on Bill's red hair and he smiled, knowing he'd be burnt within the week. His nails were already caked with dirt from the first tomb they entered.

There was a new girl on the team. She was a native, all dark hair, brown skin, and exotic looks. She was a hard worker and she had a really loud laugh, and Bill had been assigned as her trainer. She'd proven to be a talented witch and very determined.

And a month later he and Iris were dating. His family started ragging on him for his taste in foreign girls - first Fleur, now Iris. But no one ever mentioned Hermione. They didn't say anything, he didn't say anything - it was an unspoken agreement among them. In turn, there was also a silent pact between he and Hermione not to write one another or Floo. They needed space. They needed time. And they needed other people.

In the middle of a desert, Bill looked up at the sky. It was getting dark and cold out now and the sky was clear. Stars sparkled like fireworks.

Bill wondered if there'd ever be a time where looking at the stars didn't remind him of Hermione.

"Bill," a heavily accented voice said, interrupting his reverie. "Are you ready to head back to headquarters?" Iris smiled at him curiously, wondering why he'd been so interested with the sky.

"Yes," Bill said, voice firm and strong. He took his girlfriend's hand and said, "I'm ready." And he didn't just mean about heading back. He was ready to move forward.

…~oOo~…

A/N. PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE. REVIEWS MAKE MY BELLY TINGLE.

I'm going to admit it, I cried a little writing this chapter. I blame it on the hormones, of course. Next chapter is the last - the epilogue.

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	20. Epilogue

A/N. This is the end, guys. The Epilogue. Writing this has been a lot of fun, and also a journey. I know it doesn't end the way most of you imagined it, but I feel like it was the way it needed to be written.

I'd like to give special thanks to Aurora-16 who is a dedicated reviewer and has become a very good friend who always sends me cyber sweets J Even if she hates me after this.

This story is going to be dedicated to my bump. When my baby grows up, I'll make him/her as much of a Harry Potter freak as I am.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

As always, Enjoy J

…~oOo~…

Dendera - Dera for short - Weasley was wading through the frantic busyness of the Hogwarts Express. Most of the cabins were full and the ones that weren't had older kids in them. A First Year wouldn't dare sit with a Seventh Year, so she continued hunting.

Finally she came upon one with only two other kids in it. One was a boy who's hair wouldn't stay down and the other's face was hidden by a thick tome, but it too was a boy. The messy-haired one she recognized, though.

"James!" she exclaimed, waving at him. Their families were close friends, they were basically cousins, but not by blood. Her Aunt Ginny had actually been James's dads' surrogate. James was spitting image of Harry, though, obviously since technically he had no blood relation to Draco - but he did carry his last name. James Hyperion Malfoy.

James beamed and waved her in. She entered the cabin and the other boy finally looked up from his book.

The boy was average, over all. Curly brown hair that he was letting grow longer, freckles over his nose, and the smallest of bumps in the bridge of his nose like he broke it and didn't set it in time. He looked back to the book, obviously disinterested by Dera.

"So," James said, "are you excited?"

Dera nodded hesitantly. "Nervous too. I hear the professors are brutal."

James laughed. "Dad says they're not that bad."

Dera chuckled and teased, "Which one?"

Rolling his eyes, James said, "Obviously the optimistic one."

"So I'm assuming Uncle Harry?"

James nodded. "He did say Professor Snape was tough, though."

Out of nowhere, the boy across the cabin from them, said from behind his book, "Which professor?"

"Snape," James repeated.

The boy put his book down and rolled his eyes. "I meant which Professor Snape?"

Dera's dark eyebrows furrowed. "There are two?"

"Yes," the boy said with mock patience, like he was speaking to a three-year-old. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and the Transfiguration professor. Which one did your father say was tough?"

"He didn't specify," James said, looking puzzled.

"Well," the boy said, flipping the page. "They're both harsh professors, so good luck I suppose."

"How would you know?" Dera said, doubtfully. "You're a First Year, too. You haven't had them yet."

"I _know_," the boy said haughtily, "because they're my parents, you moron. I'm Silas Snape."

"I don't believe you," Dera challenged. She didn't particularly like this boy already and was hoping to be Sorted into different Houses.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the cabin and in poked the head of a pretty woman, probably in her thirties, with long curly brown hair like the boy, Silas. She was wearing a purple sundress and a thick metal ring with a star-like seal on it around her neck on a chain.

"Hello, darling," she said sweetly, looking at the boy. "I wanted to make sure you found a seat. If it's too crowded you can come to the professors' car, of course." As if she just noticed the other kids in the cabin, she smiled to them. "Oh. Hello, I'm Silas's mother."

Dera and James waved numbly.

"You must be Harry and Draco's boy," she said knowingly, looking at James.

James blinked blankly. "How did you know?"

"You are positively identical to your father," she said. "To Harry. And you…" She examined Dera closer, a sort of wistful look coming to her. "You're Bill Weasley's girl, aren't you?"

Dera was even more shocked than James. "How did you know?"

"I heard Bill married a girl from Egypt a while back," Mrs. Snape said, smiling. "You must take after your mother. But, if I'm not mistaken, you've possessed the Weasley eyes. Blue. Dendera, am I right?"

The young girl nodded.

"Please, tell your father Hermione says hello."

"Hermione, are you suffocating Silas again?" a slow, deep voice said from behind the woman.

Everyone turned to find a tall, imposing man with shoulder-length black hair and a hooked nose. He was probably in his late forties, maybe fifty. He was wearing long black robes that made him even more sinister.

"I'm not suffocating," Hermione defended. "I was just making sure he didn't want to sit with us."

"Of course he doesn't want to sit with us," the man, Professor Snape, answered dryly. "He's eleven years old on his way to his first year at school. The last place he'd want to be is with his parents."

"Well, _excuse me_," she sassed back with a roll of her eyes. She turned back to the blushing Silas and said, "I love you. As does your father." She turned to the other kids. "I'll see all of you in Transfiguration!"

The woman gave one last dazzling smile and popped out of the cabin once more, following her husband with a spring in her step.

Silas said, "I told you." With a victorious grin, he lifted his book again.

"Silas," Dera said curiously, "if you don't mind my asking…why wasn't your mother wearing shoes?"

**THE END**

…~oOo~…

Final Challenge: 1. Favorite part of the entire story? 2. Favorite character? 3. Favorite couple? 4. Least favorite part? 5. How would YOU have ended it?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	21. For the Disappointed Readers

Dear Disappointed Readers,

NEVER FEAR.

When I started the story I had no clue whether it was going to be a Bill and Hermione or Bill and Snape story, but by the time she was discharged from St. Mungo's I was sure it was going to be Bill. So I imagined up an epilogue for them.

And then the conflicts began and I realized, "Wow, if I were Hermione, I would definitely see that there was just no way for us to be together." I don't know why - maybe it was because there was just so many problems that anyone would take this as a sign that things just weren't meant to be.

So the story changed. While I think a piece of their hearts will always belong to one another, Bill and Hermione simply HAD to move on. Hermione was too broken at that point of her life to have a relationship and Bill needed to go back to his dream job. It just wasn't working.

My story when from being a Snape or Bill/ Hermione, to Bill/Hermione, to a Snape/Hermione. It was definitely a struggle because I love them both.

BUT IF YOU DIDN'T LIKE THE ENDING, THERE IS REDEMPTION. I've decided to write a second epilogue, the one I had thought up when Bill and Hermione were supposed to end up with one another.

I know a select few wanted Hermione to end with Bill AND Snape, but I just personally don't believe Hermione - even on the edge of insanity - would agree to that. Don't get me wrong, I love reading threesome stories like that, haha, but personally I wouldn't write it.

SO THE ALTERNATIVE EPILOGUE WILL BE UP EITHER TONIGHT OR TOMORROW - I PROMISE. DON'T GIVE UP ON MY YET.

Love,

Resa Aureus


	22. Alternate Epilogue

A/N. I know ALL of you are going to like this Epilogue better. It's more detailed, it's longer, and it has Bill. The other epilogue is under reconstruction as far as detail and I know you al STILL will like this one better, but I'd like to make this clear - THIS WAS NOT HOW THE STORY IS INTENDED TO END. This is merely to appease those who cursed my name and because I was so eager to write this sort of ending. I guess, though, you will like whichever you like and that's the end.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

Enjoy.

90 YEARS LATER

It had been a long day, full of tears and laughs and reminiscing. When Hermione Weasley passed away, the entire wizarding world grieved over the war hero. The funeral had been so packed with people, Bill Weasley was touched, but knew that all they knew her for was what the papers published. They didn't know the complex, emotional, intelligent, and broken person that she really was. Only a few knew how many layers the girl had.

It had taken years for Bill to convince Hermione to marry him. She was so stubborn that he almost gave up, but didn't. They stayed in touch while he was in Egypt and she was at Hogwarts - worlds away - and she'd seemed genuinely excited when he dated the Egyptian girl, but then they broke up, mostly because Bill just didn't feel complete. She he continued after Hermione once more.

Their letters were still kept in an old mahogany chest on their mantle and Bill looked at it with a small smile at the worlds inside and how much their owls had hated them. The box held Bill's first proposal - even when they were oceans apart, he was pushing her to marry him. He remembered exactly what he wrote, too: "You'll have to marry me; I still have all of your shoes." She had declined, though, and detailed for him yet again why she couldn't.

Years. Bill slowly walked over to the mantle and ran a hand over the box of letters and then explored the rest of their living room's treasures.

Their wedding photo. They had married on the beach at Shell Cottage - Hermione had insisted. Bill didn't mind of course, it was the place of their first kiss - Molly was the one who had cared. Bill very nearly laughed aloud at the memory. His mother's many freak-outs, persisting that it be at the Burrow. But no. Hermione was even more stubborn than the late Molly Weasley, right until the very end.

In the photo, Hermione was wearing a white linen sundress with long-sleeves. It brushed her knees with a simple matching veil. She hadn't cut her hair since the month spent in the Malfoy basement and it was down her back, evening out on its own. Being on the beach, it had been too warm for full dress robes, so Bill was wearing black trousers and a button-up top. His second wedding had been a very casual affair, mostly because this time he didn't care much about the reception or celebration - all we cared about was the marriage. As they smiled and waved in black and white, they were both barefoot.

It was three years into their marriage that they received the biggest surprise of their lives - Hermione was pregnant. Snape had been right - that ten percent had counted for something. Bill had beamed with pride and Hermione said, "How could I have been so stupid? Of _course _if there was only a ten-percent chance of pregnancy to one to beat the odds would be a Weasley. You all have super sperm." His answer: "If only you knew that three years ago - then you wouldn't have given me such a hard time."

The next photo was their newborn son, Severus William Weasley. Professor Snape had tried not to show his joy at being the boy's namesake, but hadn't really succeeded. Bill had only seen Severus act the way he did to Severus II with one other person…Hermione, of course. Just adoration and patience. No one dared call him out on it though.

The photo following that one was their first family portrait. Little Severus was eight and fidgeting like mad, giggling, and Hermione was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe while Bill was discreetly tickling her side and smiling mischievously. Their photographer had been exhausted by the end of their session.

The last photo on the mantle was of Hermione, Snape and Young Severus, only Young Severus wasn't so young anymore. He was a strapping eighteen years old, standing in front of Hogwarts on his graduation day with his two professors who happened to be his mom and godfather. Severus was identical to his father at that age. Tall, broad-shouldered, lean, long red hair and blue eyes. In the moving picture, Hermione was kissing her son on the cheek and ruffling his hair while he just beamed in pride and Snape was waiting impatiently for it to be over.

Bill sighed and lowered himself slowly into his chair. Being 117 years old wasn't easy, but he was confident that he was just as in shape as Dumbledore had been at that age and that was pretty brilliant.

Then a young man entered the room with red hair and dark eyes. "Grandpa?"

Bill smiled at his youngest grandson. "Hello, William. Has everyone left yet?"

"No. Some are still hanging around."

The old man sighed heavily.

"Grandpa, I was curious…" William said slowly. "I'm interning at the Prophet and they gave me the chance to write an article and I thought maybe I could interview you. On the Real Hermione Weasley. The woman no one ever saw."

Bill hesitated. He had gotten dozens of letters requesting an interview, but he didn't want them to do Hermione injustice or have a fiasco similar to Rita Skeeter's nonsense after Dumbledore's death.

But his grandson was a goodbye and would write only the truth. Bill knew this.

"Ask away," Bill answered, absently stroking the marred side of his face.

William looked a little surprised at his grandfather's answer and cleared his throat. "Grandma…Or, rather, Hermione…what was she like as a mother?"

Bill smiled. "She was hilarious. She loved and spoiled Severus. She was kind of a pushover. You see, when she was young she was told she couldn't have children, so when she proved the Healers wrong, she treated our child exactly like what he was - a miracle. Which usually made me a bad guy when Severus got into trouble, but he knew I loved him too and that it wasn't my fault his mother was a pushover."

"How about as a professor and headmistress?" William asked - as if he didn't know.

"Everyone loved her. When she was teaching Transfiguration, everyone always told me how fantastic she was…even if she was terrifying. When she was teaching, she was always keeping her students on edge - they never knew when she'd spin around from the chalkboard and deduct a hundred points from a random House. And then when she was appointed headmistress, she was so excited and I think she gave Hogwarts a very exhilarating few decades."

"It must have been hard, her being at Hogwarts during the year," William commented.

"For a long time, it was. Especially when I was in Egypt. We couldn't even see one another on weekends and for a portion of the summer - but we made time and we always wrote letters. Despite the distance, we learned to be happy.

"I was always worried, though," the old man continued gravely. "When your wife is sick and you don't know when she could next relapse. It was hard. She did laugh at me, though. Saying I was silly for worrying about her when she was a teacher while I was the one going into hexed tombs and fighting off poltergeists and curses."

William raised an eyebrow. "I always thought Grandma got better."

"Your grandmother was always sick, William," Bill said heavily. "Until the day she died, she just wasn't the same. She was better than the start, of course…but there were nights where she would have the most horrible night terrors and days where she stared off into the distance for hours or when she had conversations with her favorite vase. It was just part of her life. She was harmless, of course, and - dear God - I loved her _so much_." He felt the harsh sting behind her eyes. "For years I fought for her and I would have never stopped fighting. She didn't want to marry me - I want to make that clear to you. She knew she was ill. She knew she was unstable. But even if she was forever stationed at the Incurable wing at St. Mungo's - I would have married her."

"Just one more question, Grandpa," William said, seeing that the old man's eyes were glistening. William never once saw his grandfather cry - it wasn't something his namesake did. He was always strong, always calm, and always collected.

"Whatever you need to ask, son," Bill said firmly, closed his eyes.

"Why was it that Grandma never wore shoes?"

The old Bill Weasley just smiled.

…~oOo~…

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	23. Letter to NoShoesPlease

A Review I received today:

"This was an amazing story! I'm so glad you wrote another epilouge, I was so dissapointed with the other one! Not because it wasn't good, because let me tell you something it was better than purple socks on a rooster! But I'm just not a Snape person...never have been. But what this review is about specifically is...I would really appreciate if you could post something about why Hermione never wore shoes! I just want to know, It's been bothering me ever since you posted the first chapter about her not wearing shoes! So please, from a desperate reviewer and big fan...could you PLEASE post something about her and her shoes. Whether it be on your profile or another chapter but please just SOMETHING, ANYTHING!

Signed,

Noshoesplease"

Dear NoShoesPlease,

I read your review today and I have to admit, it made me smile a lot, mostly because I've been asked why Hermione didn't wear shoes many times.

And I am very sad to say that I simply cannot say. Not because I do not know (because I do) but because I feel like it was such a near-and-dear characteristic of Hermione's near-insanity that she just would not appreciate it if I shared such an intimate thing with readers.

She and I already have had uncountable debates on adding it to the story in a "deleted scene" that involved a conversation with she and Snape at the very end, but alas, she is determined not to let anyone but she, her husband, and me know. Even Silas has been dying to know forever and she just won't budge. She never even truly revealed the reason to Bill (who is still in possession of all her shoes, as a side note. She refuses to take them back.)

I know this isn't what you had in mind and I'm sorry if I've disappointed you again. Maybe one day I'll get her to agree and I'll add that chapter, but I don't believe that will happen soon.

For now I will leave it to your imagination!

So Long And Thanks For All The Fish,

Resa Aureu


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